


House of Monsters

by snarkylittlespeedster (zom_bie)



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel (House of M), X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men - All Media Types, Young Avengers
Genre: A whole shitton of feels, Alternate Universe - House of M, Brainwashing, Eventual Romance, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, Trigger Warnings starting in Chapter 2, nohmmy, tags will be added as I go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-27
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-02-06 10:07:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 48,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1854127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zom_bie/pseuds/snarkylittlespeedster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where the House of M ruled as royalty, Tommy Shepherd is the crown prince, in the process of being groomed to take the throne. Tragedy befalls the family when the young boy is taken by rebels. The family is falling apart with the loss of their prince, and Tommy is left alone to try and resist his captors' influence. When Tommy returns, everything seems to be broken beyond repair, including the prince himself. Will he find the strength to heal and pick up the pieces, or fall to ruin?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _This fic will contain triggers, and torture._ I will post warnings at the beginning of each chapter as they apply, but if you are not okay with torture themes, this is not the fic with you. There will be a lot of pain in this fic, both mentally and physically, but at the end it all, things won't be so terrible. This is going to be a long fic and I have a lot of plans for it, so stick close! Also, the first half of the fic, it will mostly be Billy/Teddy that are explored, but after Tommy's return, there will definitely be some Nohmmy action.
> 
> ALSO, I have unfortunately not been able to read the House of M fics yet, so forgive any error in my ways. I'm treating the Maximoffs as royalty in this fic.
> 
> Also, thanks to ailyn_moreau for being a wonderful, amazing beta! she's the best ever and I would die of embarrassment without her. c:
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

“ _Thomas!_ ” His head snapped up from where it had been resting in his hand, and he blinked blearily at his tutor. To his right, Billy sniggered quietly, and Tommy shot him a scowl, trying to discreetly wipe off the little bit of drool that had accumulated in the corner of his mouth and started dribbling down. His tutor snapped her fingers at him, and he heaved a sigh, sitting back in his chair and pushing it onto its hind legs.

“Thomas, you can _not_ keep dozing off during your lessons. These are very important, and--”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. ‘Crown prince’, blah blah ‘your duty’. I know.” She shot him a very disapproving look, mirrored by Billy, and he glanced between the two of them before giving a shrug and sinking down into his chair a little bit, letting it rest on four legs again. “It’s just _boring_! You guys are so _slow_ \-- I mean, not trying to be mean or anything, I just…you know. I gotta go _fast_. I can’t just…” Her look was growing increasingly criticizing, and he slumped down further in his chair, crossing his arms and glaring off to the side, avoiding his brother’s gaze.

Dammit, no one _understood_. And, of course, this was all going to come back to bite him in the ass later. His mom was a piece of cake, she’d just fret over him and pet his hair and tell him he needed to behave because he had such a _great life_ ahead of him. His grandfather, though… He could already picture his stern, cold gaze as he lectured Tommy for an hour straight on the importance of the throne and his inheritance. Not that he would ever get it, anyway. His grandfather wasn’t stepping down from his position _any_ time soon.

A few hours later found him doing exactly as he had predicted, standing in front of his grandfather, who was going to take his _sweet_ time with his punishment. Tommy stood with perfect posture, his hands held behind his back, and tried not to look too annoyed with the situation, which he was. Magneto was walking around him in a slow circle, meticulously observing his stance. He had a long, thin stick that he used to point into his back to straighten it more, placed on his shoulders to direct him to roll them back further, and to lift his chin to the proper height.

“You are the eldest,” his grandfather began, his voice a careful drawl. He went slowly on purpose; he knew that Tommy, like his own son, couldn’t stand to sit still for long, and dragged out his lectures in the hopes that it would dissuade him from continuing to misbehave. “And as such, you have certain _responsibilities_ that you must address, and certain mannerisms you must uphold. You are being trained to lead, to rule as the king one day.”

They had barely begun, but already every nerve inside of Tommy was beginning to tingle, protesting being held still. He clenched his jaw and bit back any sarcastic remarks, knowing that would only lengthen the time of his punishment. He considered just leaving, running out of the castle and into the grounds, but he knew better than that as well. He’d tried it, once, when he was a little bit younger. The end result had not been pretty.

“You are fifteen, now, and it’s time that you stop acting like a child and start taking your life a little more seriously. If you don’t, the right to rule may very well be handed down to your brother--”

“I don’t _want_ to be king!” The words spilled from Tommy’s mouth before he could stop himself, and he immediately snapped his mouth shut. His grandfather froze for a moment before turning sharply on his heel to face Tommy, his eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Oh? And why is that?” he questioned, his tone menacing. Tommy didn’t reply, pressing his lips together and lowering his head lightly, knowing he had said entirely the wrong thing, but he was suddenly _angry_. His grandfather acted as if he _wanted_ him to say something, to speak up against him, but Tommy knew full well that if he did it would only end in him getting in more trouble, so he bit his tongue and refused to answer. His grandfather was displeased with his silence, however, and snapped at him. “ _Answer!_ ” His head jerked up, and he grit his teeth, narrowing his eyes angrily.

“ _Because,_ ” he started, his voice lowered slightly in displeasure. “I don’t _want_ to. I don’t want to sit through stupid meetings where people can’t make up their stupid minds, I don’t want to sit in a stupid chair all day and listen to people complain to me about ‘why their life sucks’, ‘cause I’m impatient, and I’m not that great with people.” He held his chin up higher, and looked his grandfather in his eyes, delivering his final statement confidently. “And, honestly, you’re not going to give up so I’ll be lucky if I’m thirty by the time the throne’s ready to be handed down to me, so there’s really no point in me learning all this crap _now_.”

The bravado he had felt while speaking slowly melted away under the king’s withering gaze, and he pressed his lips together tightly. _Good going_ , he thought to himself bitterly. _You’re_ really _in trouble now._ He held his breath, staring back at his grandfather and waiting for him to declare some sort of terrible sentence for this outburst, resigned to his fate already.

Instead, Erik’s lips quirked upwards, and he chuckled. Tommy was shocked, his entire body going slack for a moment as he just _stared_ at his grandfather before he quickly fixed it. He wasn’t sure if the smile was a good thing, or a very, _very_ bad thing...but he was pretty sure it was the latter. He watched him furtively, waiting for him to speak.

“It is true, Thomas. You are impatient, stubborn, and lack proper social skills, but all of those will change with time. However, you are also _brave_ , outspoken, and very firm in your beliefs. Those are three outstanding qualities for a leader to possess, and that is why I have confidence that you will excel when the time comes.” His grandfather continued to smile at him, and Tommy was left at a loss for words.

“I… _What_?” He stared at Erik, who walked up and patted him on the shoulder, that strange, out of place smile still on his lips.

“You are dismissed, Thomas. We will speak more later.” His grandfather walked off, and Tommy stood there for a long moment before he was finally able to will his body into turning around and walking away, his movements a little stiff, both from the shock of what had just been said to him and from keeping perfect posture for an extended period of time. 

“Well, that was certainly a surprise…” His Kree bodyguard, Noh-Varr, fell into step beside him at the doorway. He’d been bred as a supersoldier, genetically modified to survive nearly any environment and given the sole task of protecting Tommy from birth. He was technically only a few years older than the prince, but had been “born” at the physical age of sixteen, and had been aging very, very slowly ever since. He was a very effective bodyguard, though Tommy had only seen him in action a handful of times, and he had also grown to be Tommy’s best friend over the years.

“Uh… _Yeah_.” The prince scoffed and rolled his eyes, lifting a hand to rub the back of his neck .” _Really_ weird. I thought I was going to get some sort of terrible punishment or something, but…I mean, what the heck! I tell him I _don’t_ want to be king, and he’s all ‘oh, that’s why you’re going to be a great one’. I think he’s lost it. He’s too old.” He kicked at the ground as he walked, shoving his hands into the pockets of his trousers, scowling at the ground.

Noh-Varr was quiet for a long moment, and then smirked down at Tommy. “...He was right, though.” Tommy shot him a dirty look, as if he was betraying him by giving his opinion.

“What do you mean, _he was right_?” he demanded, glowering at him.

“I _mean_ , my prince, that he is right about you possessing strong leadership skills. Whether or not you want to use them is irrelevant.” Tommy huffed and looked away from him, huffing gently and heading for the castle grounds.

“I do _not_ ,” he protested, his voice lowered to a grumble.

“Why would it be such a bad thing if you did?” Noh-Varr questioned, raising a brow and looking down at him.

“ _Because_ , Noh, that means that everyone expects me to do it when _I don’t want to_!” He exclaimed, pulling his hands out of his pockets so that he could throw them up above his head. He was about to continue when he was suddenly pulled into a headlock, giving a startled cry and grasping at the arm of his uncle, trying to pry it away. “Hey! Get off!” he yelled, but Pietro would not relent.

“I heard you gave your tutor grief again today,” he said, grinning as he rubbed his knuckles roughly against his nephew’s head, winking at Noh-Varr, who was watching the scene with a small smirk, his arms crossed.

“ _Ow_! Hey, just--” Tommy gave up protesting, and vibrated his body rapidly until he was able to pull away from his uncle, though it ended with him falling onto his butt, scowling heavily at the ground. Pietro laughed, and held out a hand, which Tommy took begrudgingly, standing up and crossing his arms. “Yeah, I did. She knows better than to interrupt my naps.” His face spit into a grin, and Pietro laughed, clapping him on the back and knocking the boy forward a step.

“You may not want to be royalty, but you’re definitely bratty enough,” he teased, waving for Tommy to follow him and nodding to Noh-Varr. “I’ll watch him for a while.” Noh-Varr bowed his head and turned, walking back into the castle. Pietro slung his arm around Tommy’s shoulders, dragging the boy along with him, and gave a little sigh. “So how did Dad take it?” A scowl immediately crossed Tommy’s features, and Pietro laughed. “That bad, huh?”

“Worse! I told him that I don’t even _want_ to be king because I don’t have the patience to sit in on stupid meetings and ‘cause I don’t like people and because it’s not like he’s going to let go of the throne any time soon _anyway_ \--”

“You _told_ him that?” Pietro’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief, and Tommy waved him off.

“Yeah, yeah I did, and I totally thought he was gonna be mad, but then he _laughed_ and told me that, yeah I am all the bad stuff but that I’m… What’d he say, ‘outspoken’ and ‘ _brave_ ’ and…something else and told me that’s why I’m going to make a good king.” He gave a dramatic sigh, sulking slightly. “It’s stupid and it doesn’t make sense.”

Pietro seemed to be just as perplexed by what Erik had said as Tommy had been, but after a minute he shrugged. “It’s true, though. We couldn’t get you to shut that mouth of yours if we sewed your lips shut.” Tommy rolled his eyes and let out an annoyed groan, shoving away from his uncle and crossing his arms petulantly.

“But I don’t _want_ to be a king! Everyone’s so _slow_ and stupid and...no. No, no, no, no, _no_ , if my ‘training’ really is prepping me to be king, then I definitely do _not_ want to be the king.” He shook his head defiantly, once more scowling, and his uncle let out a sigh.

“Yeah, I know, kid. Trust me, I do.” He paused, pressing his lips together and looking off slightly. He was quiet for a moment, and then glanced back down at his nephew, nudging him gently. “Well…wanna race?”

Tommy perked up. He had been growing into his powers the older he got, and was finally getting to the point where he could at least keep up with his uncle, though he always strived to outrun him.He _never_ turned down the challenge. “Uh, _yeah_. You’re on.” He took off, not bothering to comment further, but his uncle was hot on his trail, taking the lead and winding them through the gardens and courtyards. They flew past one particular noble, the blast of wind left in their wake knocking off her large hat and ruffling her hair and dress, leaving her confused and angry. Tommy laughed and dug his heels in, attempting to catch up with his uncle and overtake him.

After an hour or so of the two of them twisting around every inch of the castle grounds they could cover, Pietro let Tommy take the lead. The boy headed straight for the courtyard that was behind the castle, making a beeline for the large, multi-tiered fountain he and his brother had been gifted when they turned three. It was a stupid age to give someone a gift like that, in his opinion, but he liked the fountain regardless, if only because it doubled quite well as a swimming pool. He unbuttoned his jacket as he ran and let it fall away behind him, his grin growing wider as he saw his twin, Billy, standing at the edge of the fountain with his betrothed, a Skrull/Kree hybrid named Dorrek that Noh-Varr insisted deserved the utmost respect. He was the crowned emperor of the aliens or something like that, but honestly, Tommy couldn’t be bothered to know. He had been living with them on-and-off since the engagement, an arranged marriage that was planned a few years ago, so he could learn human culture and adopt a better understanding of his fiance and their people. He had adopted the name Teddy, and fit in with the family rather well at this point, so Tommy didn’t see the need to give him any special recognition.

“Respect, schmect,” he mumbled as he headed in directly behind them, leaping over the ledge of the fountain and crashing into the water, landing directly behind the pair and effectively swamping them with water. He surfaced with a huge grin to find Billy standing there, his arms held out as he looked down at his now-sopping wet clothes, horrified. He glanced from Teddy, who was in a similar state, and then back to Tommy, his expression quickly turning angry.

“ _Tommy_!” he yelled, looking back to Teddy, who was in his human form and looking down at his own drenched form. Once the blonde started laughing, though, Billy relaxed a little, seeming surprised by his reaction. Pietro slid to a stop beside the group, shaking his head and tsking.

Billy turned to Pietro, pointing at Tommy. “He just… _splashed_ us and…now we’re soaking wet!” He was fumbling for the right words, unable to form his sentence properly through the mortification he felt at his perfect moment with his betrothed being ruined. Originally, he had been much less than happy to be engaged to an alien, his discontent matched only by his mother, but he had accepted it graciously because ‘it was his duty’, and apparently he actually really liked the guy now. Tommy liked him too, honestly, but Billy loved lecturing Tommy on ‘duty’ and ‘responsibilities’ and everything else he heard fifty million times a day, only because he had ‘done his part’.

Pietro merely shrugged at Billy’s complaint. “You have magic. Dry yourself off. Otherwise, take it to your mother.” He held up his hands defensively and winked at Tommy, who was still grinning stupidly from above the ledge of the fountain. “I’m gonna grab Noh-Varr, stay close.” He zipped off, and Tommy had half a mind to disobey just for the fact of the matter, but decided against it, if only because he had already gotten himself into enough trouble for the day.

The next thing he knew, two large, _very_ strong hands were on his shoulders, giving him just enough time to catch his breath before shoving him under the water and releasing him. He surfaced a moment later, coughing lightly but laughing as Teddy grinned mischievously at him, and the two began to combat each other, using the water as their weapon. Tommy refused to let him get close, and rapidly slapped his hands against the surface of the water to shoot streams of it at Teddy, who would then retaliate by swinging his hand across the surface and engulfing Tommy with a wave of water.

Eventually, Billy stopped pouting and joined the fun, and by the time Noh-Varr showed up, the three of them were having an all-out war, with Billy and Teddy teaming up against Tommy, who couldn’t stop laughing. He saw Noh-Varr and leapt up slightly, waving at him. “Hey! Come help merrlp-!” He was cut off as he was dunked once more, coming up spluttering and retreating quickly, laughing. Noh-Varr joined the fun, and after a short while Tommy climbed onto his back, holding onto his sides tightly with his knees, leaning around either side of him as he moved and sending attacks with the water towards his brother and his fiance.

Their fun had to end eventually, however, something that was brought around by one of their mother’s handmaidens, Elise.

“Prince Thomas, William! You’re ruining your nice clothes!” she exclaimed, gesturing with her hands for them to climb out of the fountain. Tommy climbed down from Noh with a dramatic huff, complaining as he did so.

“Yeah, but _all_ of my clothes are nice clothes!” he complained, but he avoided her stern gaze, clearing his throat and turning away rapidly as if he hadn’t said anything to begin with. She gave a little nod, accepting his response and turning to Noh-Varr.

“And _you_ are supposed to keep the boy _out_ of trouble,” she said, crossing her arms and giving him a disapproving look. 

“By all technicality, madam, I’m supposed to do as he bids and keep him out of harm’s way. Besides, his uncle had condoned it.” She tsked at his reply, but chuckled lightly and shook her head, beckoning over Billy and fussing over him slightly.

“Tsk, William, I expected better from _you_ ,” she said, though her tone had softened considerably. She was close to both of the boys, as she had helped raise them from birth alongside their mother, and was more of a nanny to them than anything. She loved both of the boys, but had a soft spot for Billy; Tommy secretly suspected this was because there was a very good chance he would be sent away to live with his betrothed when he was of age, but it was probably also due to the fact that Billy was more…docile than the speedster, and a little easier to handle.

“I was the last one in!” he protested, though any seriousness of the situation had already fled the conversation.

“Technically, my prince, _I_ was the last one in,” Noh-Varr piped up, and Tommy gave a quick hoot of laughter as Billy immediately turned to protest.

“Yeah, but you weren’t even _here_!” he complained, but he then rolled his eyes. “ _Whatever_ , let me just fix _everything_ , then,” he said lightly, giving a small smile before closing his eyes and chanting lightly under his breath, his hands glowing blue as he lifted a few inches off of the ground. There was a flash of blue light, and everyone was dry, and all of the water that had been splashed from the fountain had disappeared as well, supposedly returned to its rightful place. He touched back down to the ground, smiling proudly, and Elise nodded.

“ _That’s_ a good boy, now let’s -- Thomas, _where_ is your jacket?” she asked suddenly, giving a tired sigh.

“Uhh… On the ground somewhere?” He gave a sheepish grin, already taking a step back to avoid her wrath.

“ _Thomas_!” He was gone before she’d even finished saying his name.

\---

“Do you know what it’s like up there?” Tommy asked. He and Noh-Varr were on the roof, a certain place that he often had his guard take him to at night, so that no one could bother them. He was currently settled against the kree’s side, leaning back against him and staring up at the sky. “Like, did you get to travel at all before you came here?”

“Mm, briefly. I was not given much of a chance to explore when I was born. The first few years of my life were spent in training. Even after arriving here, most of my time was spent with a Kree trainer, making sure that I was properly instructed in the best ways to protect you.” Noh-Varr didn’t seem too bothered by the information; then again, not much seemed to bother the Kree, the exception being when Tommy outran him. When this happened, the speedster was generally scolded for being unsafe. Other than that, though, Noh had mastered the art of patience. It was pretty much a necessity when dealing with Tommy.

“...That sucks,” Tommy mumbled, shifting against the Kree to get more comfortable, humming softly. “I wish I could just… Go. Just leave ‘cause I want to.” He was quiet for a long moment, brooding over his situation. “....But I’m stuck here.”

Noh-Varr glanced down at the young prince, raising a brow thoughtfully. “You live in much better conditions than almost anyone, Thomas.”

This only drew a sigh from the speedster. “Yeah, but I wanna _go_. I wanna leave and travel and see all the different planets and stuff. I don’t care if I’m rich or not, I just wanna go.” He heaved another sigh, curling up slightly and nestling comfortably into Noh-Varr’s side.

“You’re quite young, Thomas. You may very well have a chance to do exactly that as you grow older.” Tommy hummed in response, seemingly unhappy with that response.

“Maybe,” he grumbled. “If I ever stop having to take _lessons_ all the time.” He gave a distressed groan, and Noh-Varr chuckled, nudging the speedster lightly.

“You will not have them for the rest of your life. Again, you are young. You have a lot of learning to do.” He smiled, turning his gaze to the stars as well.

“Yeah, but I don’t _care_ about any of it. Half of it’s like, ‘stand like this, eat like this, walk like this and talk like this’ and I just don’t care. It’s all stupid.” Noh-Varr grunted lightly in response; he could understand the frustration of the lessons, as he had gone through some quite similar, and though he was raised in an entirely different culture where such behavior was expected of every member, he had always been chided for being more rebellious than what was normal.

The two of them laid down and remained there for a while, just watching the stars above them, and after a long moment of brooding, Tommy spoke up softly. “...Noh?”

“Yes, Thomas?”

“...Do _you_ think I would be a-a good king?” He yawned after speaking, settling down more comfortably, his hand tucked between his head and Noh-Varr’s chest. 

Noh-Varr thought over his answer briefly, carefully considering his words. “...I believe you would, if you wanted to be. That being said, roles of leadership are only meant for those who wish to rise to the challenge.” Tommy hummed softly in response, and didn’t say anything else. After a few minutes, Noh-Varr glanced down at the speedster, finding him sound asleep, and crossed an arm behind his head, staring up at the stars as well.

“You would do well for the kingdom,” he said softly, his eyes searching the skies. “And that is why I cannot allow anything to happen to you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of fluff and cute in this chapter. Tommy is kind of adorable as a kid, I think; mischievous and a total prankster. What a little troublemaker. Also, cute Pietro/Tommy fluff? In this au, they're pretty close, so. c:
> 
> Please let me know what you think! I'm very anxious about this fic. I'll try to keep posting fics to my 30 Day OTP Challenge as well, but chapters to this fic should be fairly regular. I'll figure out a timeline as I go, but I'm thinking a chapter a week, more than likely.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik makes an announcement, and Tommy is left feeling distraught and betrayed. He runs from his family, only to find himself in the hands of the rebels. His life takes a dramatic turn for the worse, especially once he realizes that his kidnapping was _very_ carefully planned out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNINGS: this chapter contains the kidnapping of a child, and abuse of said child. If these are things that will bother you, I suggest you do not read any further.
> 
> Ahh, finally posted chapter two. Sorry for the wait, I'm being very meticulous with detail in this chapter and the following few, so it'll probably be about a week between posts, unless I suddenly find the time to pick at them and feel confident that they are good enough.
> 
> ALSO. The outfit Tommy's wearing was definitely inspired by [this](http://kevinwada.deviantart.com/art/House-of-M-Fashion-313605641) wonderfully beautiful pic, by Kevin Wada. I literally rewrote the paragraph describing his outfit like five times and just gave up because I couldn't get this image out of my head, and the outfit is just so perfect I can't. So fashion credit goes to him!
> 
> I also want to thank all my readers! This fic already has a hundred views and like 9 kudos and I've only got one chapter up. I'm insanely flattered. You guys rule. Every ounce of support helps to spur me on!
> 
> Don't forget to follow me on tumblr at snarkylittlespeedster.tumblr.com annnd credit goes to my lovely beta, ailyn_moreau. She has some wonderful fics up as well, with an interesting pairing of Bucky/Jemma Simmons. The fics are lovely, and in return for her help I beta her stories as well (not that she needs it). They're lovely, check them out!
> 
> Anywhoo. There are feels to be had in this fic, but nothing compared with what's to come. Fair warning.

Tommy woke up the next morning, tucked into his bed with his shoes off and his jacket removed, Noh-Varr beside him under the covers, laying on his back with his arms crossed behind his head. He blinked, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes, glancing at the Kree, who peeked an eye open and gave a small smile to the prince to let him know that he was conscious and aware that he was getting out of bed, before sliding his eyes shut once again. Tommy pulled back the covers, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and scooting off, his socked feet hitting the floor gently. He shuffled into the large bathroom that was connected to his room, peeling off his clothes and heading for the shower. He stepped into it and turned on the water, giving a sigh as the warm streams rained down, pelting him and massaging his shoulders as he turned around, bracing his hands against the wall of the shower. He ducked his head, letting the water wash over him, and let out a slow sigh.

He wanted the day off. Some might argue that he had an easy life, free of any real worries, but he really just hated the pressure. The lessons, the formal parties, the war meetings and inquiries he was now forced to sit in on… He hated all of it. He sighed, pressing his forehead against the wall and letting the water run over him while he could. He already knew that today was jam-packed with stuff he didn’t want to do, so he was going to enjoy his little moment of freedom while he could.

He made his shower last, finally stepping out thirty minutes later and glancing at Noh-Varr, who was in his underwear, waiting for his turn with the shower. He’d been living in Tommy’s room for years at this point, since Tommy and the rest of the castle fully trusted him with the care of the young prince, day and night. Tommy grabbed a towel, scrubbing his hair dry and moving away from the shower to allow Noh-Varr to pass him by and step in instead. He glanced back at Noh as he stripped, stepping inside of the shower and turning it on, and scowled slightly, glancing down at himself.

He walked towards the large mirror, turning and angling his body to observe it, his lips pressed tightly together. He glanced back in the direction of his guard to make sure that Noh hadn’t finished showering yet, as he usually didn’t take long, and then held up one of his arms, checking the size of it. It was definitely muscular, sure -- he was covered with lean muscle -- but it looked nothing like Noh-Varr’s. People wanted _him_ to be king? He was scrawny and seemed to lack the proper “masculine” appearance that demanded fear and respect. He certainly didn’t _feel_ very manly. He heaved a sigh, and finished toweling himself off, a scowl still on his face as he pulled on his underclothes and wandered back into his bedroom.

Noh-Varr emerged shortly after, looking as perfectly put-together as he ever did, his hair slicked back without a single strand out of place, his skin-tight clothing lacking any sort of distress or stain despite how much physical activity he participated in. Tommy didn’t get how he could always look so pristine, but he’d been told that it was ‘a Kree thing’ enough times that he just quit bothering himself with it. Besides, he _hated_ having his hair slicked down.

“We have to attend your grandfather’s meeting soon, Thomas, you should get dressed.” The prince sighed, moving to the large walk-in closet adorned with all sorts of different dress clothes, scowling at the large selection. Noh-Varr walked in behind him, quietly picking out the proper clothing from the racks and walking back out to help Tommy get ready.

“How is it you know what I’m supposed to wear and stuff?” Tommy asked, allowing Noh to hand him the various articles of clothing and straighten up his appearance as they went.

Noh-Varr chuckled. “That was a part of _my_ lessons, my prince.” He held a smirk as Tommy yanked on a pair of dark pants and shrugged on a button-up shirt, allowing the kree to deftly button it before tossing a tie around his shoulders, tying it with swift fingers and tugging it into place. “And you think _yours_ are boring,” he teased lightly. With a quick snap of his hands the tie was tugged into place, and he smoothed it out carefully. He handed Tommy a green sweater with a large white stripe across the front, which the prince tugged on, and then went about making sure his shirt fit properly underneath it. Noh-Varr stepped back, crossing his arms lightly and smirking. “Just do your hair and then let’s go.”

Tommy huffed a sigh, but did as he was told, walking back to the bathroom and shoving his hands through his hair, attempting to tame it enough to be considered “presentable.” After a few failed attempts, he wet his hands, combed through it one more time, and then shoved his hands in his pants pockets and walked out, his shoulders hunched up as he moved past Noh. “C’mon, let’s go,” he grumbled. He wasn’t sure what this stupid dinner party/meeting was about, but it had been announced the day before, shortly before he’d headed for the roof with Noh-Varr.

“Thomas, posture. You know they’ll correct it when you walk in.” Tommy gave a long, suffering sigh, and then rolled his shoulders back, walking down the hallway with a carefully controlled scowl, his hands in fists at his sides. Noh-Varr raised his brows and smiled lightly; he may have just been a boy, but as he grew older, that scowl and stern walk would intimidate dignitaries from miles away. He was remarkably akin to his uncle and his grandfather in that sense.

They entered the grand hall, and Tommy took his seat, at the side of his uncle, shooting him a questioning glance, but only received a shrug in response. He tightened his lips, and glanced around the table, watching as Noh took his place standing behind him, Billy and Teddy sitting directly across from them. Down the table were various other mutants, either advisors or higher-ups in the military. Tommy was used to eating with the group, a dull collection of the most humorless people he had ever met in his life. He sighed, fighting the urge to sit with his chin in his hand, and waited for the dinner to start.

It wasn’t until everyone was nearly finished that Tommy’s grandfather finally stood, causing the small conversations that were taking place at the table to fall silent. He surveyed everyone for a moment with serious eyes, bracing his fingers against the table as he surveyed them.

“I have an announcement to make,” he said, his voice carrying through the hall as he glanced at the people seated there. His eyes lingered on Tommy, and the boy was suddenly overcome with a feeling of dread, sitting back in his chair and trying to ignore Noh-Varr’s eyes on him. His grandfather continued without pause, a slight smirk on his lips. “When Thomas turns twenty-one,” Tommy froze, sitting up ramrod straight in his chair and snapping his gaze to fix on his grandfather, aware of everyone’s eyes suddenly on him. “He will inherit the throne from me, unless I am forced to step down sooner.” He paused, and the look in his eyes clearly read that nothing short of death would bring that about. “This has already been recorded in my will, but I want my heir to be officially and publicly recognized as such.”

There was a loud screech as Tommy suddenly shoved his chair back, his head spinning. Everyone had been staring at him anyway, but now it was almost painful, feeling everyone’s gaze on him. He took a deep breath, and then bolted. He was out of the room in a split second, flying through the open doors and heading for the courtyard. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. He could hear Noh-Varr’s shouts behind him, but he dug in his heels, spurring himself to go faster, to get away. He didn’t want to talk to anyone, he didn’t want to see anyone, and most of all, he didn’t want to be stuck in that godforsaken castle any more.

How could he do this? How could his grandfather literally decide that, because Tommy didn’t _want_ to be king, he was going to be? How could he just force something like that on him? There were _way_ better people to hand the crown off to; why did he have to pick _him_?

He slid to a stop near the gates that protected the castle walls, his eyes red-rimmed as he stared through the bars, his fists clenched at his sides. He could hear Noh-Varr calling for him from a distance, but ignored him. He could just _leave_. He could go, and never--

There was a flash of movement, and suddenly a man was standing in front of him. He had a black jacket with the hood pulled up, obscuring his face, and dark clothes. What was visible of his face was obscured by a white, generic mask, and Tommy suddenly felt fear grip him, freezing him into place. The man stepped forward and gripped the back of Tommy’s neck, yanking him closer to him. The movement caused Tommy to look up at his face, and he froze, finding himself unable to move, terrified. “Wh-what--” he felt a sharp pain in his neck, and he stiffened, his hands raising to grip the man’s arms, overcome with a sudden dizziness. He briefly heard Noh-Varr screaming his name, followed by a rush of air, and then all went dark.

\---

“Tommy!” Noh-Varr was running as fast as he possibly could, pushing his body harder than he ever had. Pietro, who had been egged on by his sister to follow after them, flew past Noh-Varr, but it still wasn’t fast enough. Just as quickly as the man had appeared to inject something into Tommy’s neck, he had disappeared, taking the prince with him.

Noh-Varr stumbled, his heart skipping a beat as he looked around, searching for any sign of the assailant and the prince -- the prince _he_ had been charged to protect, something he had devoted his entire life to -- but they were nowhere to be found. Pietro let out an anguished, angry cry, and disappeared from sight, rushing away to look for his nephew. Noh-Varr began running as well, looking everywhere he could for a sign of them, for a flash of white hair and a green sweater, anything to point him in the right direction.

He had lost their prince, their future king, and in doing so, he had not only failed in his only objective, but he had lost his closest friend.

\---

Tommy woke up a few hours later, laid out on a thin, crappy mattress in a dark room, illuminated only by a single, flickering light bulb in the middle of the room. The room was devoid of any decoration, but there was a toilet and a sink with a grimy, cracked mirror above it in a corner of the room. He sat up slowly, his head heavy, and blinked, his eyes adjusting to the low lighting. He took a few careful, deep breaths, and waited for his head to clear, pressing a hand to his eyes and rubbing them.

It took a moment for everything to hit him. He remembered running, furious and upset by his grandfather’s betrayal. He was going to leave, run away from his family and those who had wronged him, who expected more of him, and then suddenly...a man had appeared in front of him. He’d been so shocked, so _terrified_ that he had been caught off guard; not many people were able to sneak up on him. The man had grabbed him before he realized what was happening, he’d felt a sharp prick and a cold, almost painful feeling shot through his veins before his vision turned hazy, and...

He'd been kidnapped.

"Oh, my god," he breathed, feeling panic begin to settle in, his breath hitching. Why had he run away from Noh-Varr, the one person who could have protected him? Why was he such an _idiot_? Why didn't he listen? What did they want? A ransom? If that was all they wanted, then they would probably get it pretty quickly. He was the crown prince now, after all, his family would pay anything to get him back, and then they'd tear apart the people that took him. Right? Right.

Shit, why didn't he just leave? He had super speed, and he could move through walls if he tried hard enough. He could do it, he was sure. He swung his feet over the side of his bed, standing, and ran to the door...nearly stumbling over his feet and falling when he realized that he wasn't moving fast enough. He was moving the same speed as any other person, nothing close to the speed he _should_ have been. If he didn't have his powers...that meant that he was stuck here. He couldn't even _hope_ to leave. Most of the experience fighting he had was purely because he was fast enough that no one could see him coming. 

Okay, _now_ he was panicking. He felt lightheaded, and it was hard to breathe, and he staggered to the door, all but falling against it. He pounded against the door with his fist, his heart racing as he screamed through the door. "Hey!" He grabbed the handle and yanked on it, finding it locked, which was to be expected. "Let me out!" He closed his fists and began hitting the doorknob, but only succeeded in hurting himself. He took a few steps back, and started kicking it, desperately trying to break it off, so he could run, get away, even if he was slowed down by his lack of powers.

He heard someone on the other side of the door, twisting the doorknob, and he staggered back, suddenly terrified. Crap, why did he yell and bang on the door? You were supposed to _avoid_ drawing attention to yourself when you were trying to escape! The door opened, and he pressed himself back against the wall, his breath catching in his throat.

“N-Noh?” he asked incredulously as the door opened. He let out the breath of air that he’d been holding in, and he rushed forward, throwing his arms around the Kree’s torso and hugging him tightly. “Oh, god, I knew you would find me,” he breathed out, feeling his panic simmer down, at least a little bit. “I-I, they took my powers somehow, I don’t know how, I can’t _run_. What did--”

He felt Noh’s large hand stroke his hair gently, gently shushing him, and he was hugged back. “I will always find you, my prince. Now come, we have to hurry.”

Tommy crouched down behind Noh-Varr, a hand fisted in his belt as he followed behind his friend, his heart hammering away in his chest. He was terrified of the thought of confrontation, especially when he was without his powers or any way to really fight back. He resolved not to focus on the absence of his powers, because he knew that he would start panicking over the fear of never getting them back, and instead forced himself to focus on keeping an eye out for anyone creeping up on them.

No one seemed to be around, assumedly because Noh-Varr had already dealt with anyone that would have been in the way, and they turned down a hallway with no incident. Noh stopped, glanced around, and went to open a door, only for Tommy to yank on his arm. “Wh-where are we going?” he asked, trying not to sound too panicked. “That…can’t be the way out.” It looked like every other door they had passed so far, presumedly leading into another room. It certainly didn’t look like an exit.

Noh-Varr sighed lightly. “I didn’t walk in through the front door, Thomas. Trust me, okay?” Tommy frowned, but gave a slow nod and allowed him to ease the door open, following him into the dark room. The door was shut carefully behind them, and Noh moved away, leaving Tommy fumbling for a moment.

“Noh?” he whispered, panicked. “Noh, where--” bright lights flicked on, blinding Tommy momentarily, and he blinked, shielding his eyes and waiting for them to adjust before he tried to look around, shrinking back against the door. “Noh…?” he asked, his voice lowered to a near whimper. He lowered his hand slowly, eyes widening in shock as he looked around. There were people, standing just outside of the light from two bright lamps that were pointed at him, placed on either side of a camera, a small red light blinking beside it. “What…?”

Suddenly a large, hulking figure stepped in front of him, blocking the light. He stared up at him with wide eyes, and moments later a fist was slammed into his stomach. He doubled over, the breath knocked out of him, and wheezed, sliding down the door, only to have the man punch him in the face immediately after. He pitched over to the side, falling to his hands and knees, and at the next blow he received to his side he curled into a fetal position, trying to cover his head.

“Listen closely, Maximoffs.” The man that was speaking had a loud, clear voice, enough so that it even Tommy could hear it, despite his attempts to ward off his attacker. “We’re here to make a deal. We are not afraid to hurt your _prince_. However,” he raised a hand and snapped his fingers, and the brutish man stepped back into the shadows, leaving Tommy coughing and struggling for breath. “If you comply with our rules, we will return him safely to you in one year’s time.” Tommy lifted a shaking hand to his face, covering his mouth and nose, curling in on himself and attempting to hide from the camera. He didn’t want his family to see him like this, bleeding and hiding and crying like a child. Where was Noh-Varr while this was happening? Why wasn’t he helping him? Did they take him?

“However, if you attempt to find us, or attack us, we _will_ kill him.” Tommy shuddered, spreading his fingers just enough to peek out at the man speaking. He was wearing a mask; a plain, white, plastic mask to hide his identity, and it chilled him to the bone. He remembered the man who had taken him, and realized that they were wearing the same disguise. Was this some sort of activist group? Cultist rebels? “And we will not do it quickly.”

Tommy’s stomach lurched, and he rolled onto his knees with a weak groan, trying to swallow down the bile that was threatening to rise into his throat. Why were they saying this? Why did they want him for a year? Why keep him for a year but threaten to kill him if his parents didn’t obey? Of course they were going to look for him. He was their _son_. He was supposed to be _king_. Kings weren’t just held hostage for a year with nothing done about it simply because their attacker said so… right?

Dammit, where did _Noh-Varr_ go?

He peered up at the people surrounding him, ignoring the man that was talking and flinching as one of them met his gaze, the mask making them look utterly emotionless, and somehow inhuman. He looked down and away, searching for his friend, his shaking hands splayed against the ground to keep himself upright. He spotted the familiar boots the Kree wore, and he pushed himself up a little, wrapping an arm around his aching sides as he lifted his head to see him. “N-noh,” he wheezed out, suddenly confused. He was just...standing there, watching him. “W-what…?”

Noh-Varr gave a cold, twisted smirk, and tilted his head to the side. He began to change, to morph into someone entirely different, another person wearing a mask, staring down at him, and Tommy felt his resolve shatter. His heart began to pound furiously, the sound nearly drowning out everything else, and he shook his head, sitting back against the door and shrinking down away from everyone. He covered his face with his arms, ducking his head and wishing more fiercely than he ever had in his life that he could go home.

“Down with the House of Magnus!” Everyone yelled and cheered in agreement, and someone grabbed Tommy’s arm, yanking him roughly to his feet. He tried to sink down again and continue covering his face, but the grip on his arm tightened painfully and he was pulled upright, his arm tugged to the side. He braved a glance around him, but immediately regretted it. All he could see were white masks as he was jostled out of the door, surrounded by these terrifying, hateful people that had managed to take him from his home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It only gets worse from here, and I apologize.
> 
> There will be violence and brainwashing techniques in the following chapters. If this is going to bother you, don't read. Otherwise... I'm hopelessly addicted to Tommy feels, so read on.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things begin to fall apart in the Maximoff household as the strain of Tommy's kidnapping takes its toll.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT. Things have been absolutely NUTS for me. I've gotten a promotion recently, and this week I'm working 11-hour days due to some complications. It's been really hard to get any time to write.
> 
> As always, thanks to ailyn_moreau for being my beta! follow me on tumblr, by url is snarkylittlespeedster. c:
> 
> Sorry for the feels ahead of time.
> 
> Enjoy! (sort of)

“Tommy!” The agonized scream that tore from Wanda’s throat pained everyone who heard it, an anguished cry of a mother watching her son get beaten. She moved towards the screen, as if to reach through it to help him, but Pietro caught her, holding her back and trying to give what little comfort he could provide in such a situation. “Tommy, no, why, _why_ would they do this to my little boy? He’s just a _child_!” Everyone else in the room remained silent, staring at the screen with varying expressions. Erik’s stare was cold, hard, and angry. Pietro and Noh-Varr were unable to tear their eyes from the screen, their eyes narrowed and their jaws set, though there was obvious pain from watching the proceedings on the screen. Billy looked absolutely horrified.

“They use a man nearly three times his size to beat him. Cowardly and despicable,” Noh-Varr spat, watching with narrowed eyes as another man moved into view, just far enough to the side that they could watch the brutal attack on the prince behind him. The man stated that they weren’t afraid to hurt their prince, causing both Noh-Varr and Pietro to give angry growls at his words. Wanda cried out again, though this time there was rage mixed in with her pain. The masked man snapped his fingers, and the brute that had been assailing the young prince finally stepped away, giving a clear view of Tommy, who was coughing and bleeding, wheezing as he tried to suck in air. Wanda gave helpless whimper as she saw this, and Pietro pulled her to him firmly, allowing her to bury her face in his neck and cry.

Tommy curled in on himself, and Noh-Varr’s fists clenched. He couldn’t imagine the fear that he felt, trapped there with these…monsters that wanted to rebel against the throne. Did they really think that beating a child would get them anywhere? It was hard to focus on anything other than the prince, but he forced himself to pay attention to the words that were spoken by the kidnapper. Whatever they had planned did not bode well for the future. When it ended, Erik silently turned off the video, raising a hand and rubbing at his mouth as he thought on what the best course of action would be.

“...We cannot go after him.”

“ _What_?” Wanda lifted her head from Pietro’s shoulder, her cheeks stained with tears and her eyes wide. “But they are _hurting_ him!” There was an underlying fury to her words, and for a moment, the air seemed to thrum dangerously.

“Would you rather he _die_ , Wanda?” Erik asked, his voice unusually soft. He met her gaze, and for a moment, he looked more like a hurting father than a king. “...I am no happier about this than you are, but if we attempt to find him, they will _kill_ him. They have proven already that there are no limits to their cruelty, but they will _pay_ after our Thomas is returned to us.”

Noh-Varr watched quietly as Wanda slumped against Pietro, defeated and sobbing, and glanced towards Billy, who had sank into an armchair, a hand pressed over his mouth and his other arm wrapped tightly around his torso. His eyes were wide and fixated on the spot where the video had been playing, tears threatening to fall at any moment. He appeared to be in shock, and Noh felt for him. All things considered, he probably should not have been allowed to see the video. He didn’t need to watch his twin get beaten to a pulp, especially not when it could have just as easily been him. He and his mother were very alike in many ways, but especially in how they handled grief, though Noh felt as though the young mage handled it at least slightly better than his mother.

“Please, let us continue. Pietro, help your sister to bed. Billy, Elise is waiting for you outside. Noh-Varr...a word, if you will.” The kree bowed his head obediently, watching as the others filed out of the room, in various states of distress and shock. He took a deep breath, and then turned towards Erik.

“Yes, my king?”

“...I want to hear your observations and thoughts based on what you just saw. Mostly…” He gave a tired, pained sigh. “What injuries you believe were inflicted on Thomas, and what your views are on the meaning of this year-long kidnapping.”

Noh-Varr paused briefly before answering. “I…from what I could gather, the damage was not too serious. A few cuts and scrapes, and I imagine he’ll have a significant amount of bruising. I would guess, however, that he has either cracked or broken ribs. He may have had his head hit the ground, but it was hard to see for sure.” He took another deep breath, letting it out slowly, his voice darkening as he continued. “As to the intentions of the rebels? If they want him for a year, I would imagine that they intend on… _doing_ something with him, altering his state of mind, molding him to fit their ideals. He is the crown prince, after all, it would work in their favor if they had him at their beck and call.”

“And you believe that by beating him for a year they will accomplish anything?” The anger that Erik had been repressing previously was beginning to show through, and Noh-Varr gave a slow nod.

Noh-Varr answered carefully, not wanting to incite the anger of the king. His age had not hindered his strength. “...Yes, if that is what they plan to do. He is young, and malleable, and…” he paused; it hurt him to speak of Tommy this way. During the year that he would have been sculpted into a strong leader, these monsters were going to turn him into whatever they wanted. “...And pain is a powerful tool. Torture is not a pretty method, but it _is_ an effective one.”

"And his powers?" The king's voice was lowered, a dangerous growl.

"Most likely repressed. There are many ways to do it, but...when he was taken, I believe he was...injected with something. So it's safe to assume it's done chemically." "I thought as much." Erik sighed and shook his head, remaining quiet for a long moment. “...The fact that they stole a _child_...”

“He will be more susceptible.” Despite his official observations, Noh-Varr’s voice had lowered considerably, pained to admit these cold truths, especially in relation to Tommy.

“...Yes…that he will be.” Erik heaved a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Thank you for your dedication, Noh-Varr. I know you have grown to care for the boy. He will need us when he returns, but you especially. I imagine he’ll...resent his mother and I for putting him into such a situation where this could happen to him. We must remain strong, for him.”

Noh-Varr gave a nod and bowed, thanking Erik and walking out of the room, his expression dark.

**Two Months Later**

“Thomas.”

The prince didn’t budge, curled up in his bed, his back to the door. His heart was racing, his pulse thundering in his ears. He couldn’t answer if he wanted to; the lump in his throat felt so large it was as though there was no way any words could squeeze past.

“ _Thomas!_ ” He jumped when he heard the sharp tone, unable to keep from trembling. He heard footsteps drawing closer, and tears welled in his eyes. He tried to keep them at bay, but when his arm was grabbed and he was yanked into a sitting position, they threatened to spill over. The man retrieving him sighed, and pulled him roughly out of the bed, pulling him out of the room and down the hallway. As they drew closer to the room that Tommy recognized, as he was taken there regularly, he began pulling weakly against the man’s hold, only for it to tighten painfully, refusing Tommy the ability to resist.

He was sat down in a chair, and the tears that had been threatening to spill finally did as the man who’d spoken in the video stepped forward, still wearing his white mask. Everyone Tommy had seen so far wore one, aside from the shapeshifter, who seemed to take pleasure in looking like Noh-Varr. It was a mockery of the safety he usually felt when around his guard, and he hated them for it. Every day that he was taken here, "Noh-Varr" stood in the corner, watching him with a stoic expression, only replaced on occasion by bemusement.

He shrank down in his chair, the tears finally falling and silently sliding down his cheeks, and began to plead with the man. “No, please… I don’t know what I’ve done wrong…” The man who’d brought him in backhanded him, and he shrank down further into his seat, whimpering and lifting a hand to his cheek. When he’d first started his “training” as they called it, he’d protested that he _hadn’t_ done anything wrong, but they had taught him that it was the wrong answer. He had done something wrong, apparently, he just hadn’t figured out what it was yet.

A woman, also wearing a white mask, approached him and took one of his arms almost gently, shoving up the sleeve to his tattered sweater and injecting a needle with practiced ease. He watched her with a watery frown, knowing by now that the injection was his daily dose of the drugs that kept his powers at bay. His eyes flicked back up to the main man, his Teacher as he called himself, and he waited quietly, shaking, his tears subsiding for the moment.

“...What is your name?” The question was asked in an almost comforting tone, but Tommy knew better.

“T-Thomas Erik Maximoff.” The first questions were always easy.

“Good,” Teacher cooed, pacing in front of the boy lightly. “And how old are you?”

“Fif-fifteen…” He cast a fearful glance at the man who’d dragged him into the room, and then looked back to Teacher.

“Relax, Thomas. As long as you are compliant, everything will be fine.” Tommy felt his chest tighten at that, and he nodded weakly, despite knowing that everything would _not_ be fine. He answered their questions, and though they wanted the truth, if he gave an answer that was “incorrect”, he was punished, but even more so for lying. He had turned into a nervous wreck, if only because he had no idea what they wanted him to say. Teacher continued, stopping in front of him.

“What is your brother’s name?”

“W-william Joseph Maximoff.”

“Mm, and are the two of you the rightful heirs to the throne?”

“N-no, we’re not.” He felt the tears welling up again, threatening to spill once more, and he felt his chest tightening painfully; this was always where he started answering questions wrong. He knew they didn’t want them on the throne. He wasn’t sure _why_ , yet, but he knew that was the answer they wanted.

“Is that really what you believe?” The man’s voice, though it sounded almost polite, held an underlying tone of menace.

Tommy felt the tears begin to fall, and he nodded, shrinking down further in his seat, silently begging the man to believe him. “Y-yes, yes, I-I do, I don’t even _want_ to be king, I--”

“You don’t want it? Why would that be a factor if you are not a rightful heir?” Tommy began to stumble over his words, his panic overwhelming him. Teacher nodded to the man that had brought him in, and stepped away, allowing him to do his work.

\---

" _I want you to go to sleep..._ " Billy sat at his mother's bedside, a chair pulled up as he stroked the sobbing woman’s hair, watching her sadly. She had been growing increasingly distressed since Tommy had been taken. Most of the time she cried for her lost son, or attempted to cast spells to find him, but they never worked. She had begun lashing out towards anyone who said the wrong thing to her, sometimes dangerously and with her magic. There was an unspoken agreement that something needed to be done, and since no one else had any ideas, Billy had stepped up to the plate. He was really the only one who could do anything about her, regardless, and who could even hope to meet her raw power. 

He felt tears begin to form as her eyes widened briefly in realization of what was happening and then slid closed, tears still trailing down her cheeks. He frowned, continuing to stroke her hair. “ _I want you to have good dreams…_ ” he chanted softly, his brows furrowing as he eyed his mother, who relaxed, looking so peaceful laying in her bed asleep. There were still tear stains on her cheeks, but they didn’t diminish her beauty. He gently raised a hand to thumb away the wetness, sighing deeply and biting on his lower lip to keep his own tears at bay. 

He heard a soft knock on the door, and he straightened suddenly, sniffing and attempting to discreetly wipe his eyes before turning to see who had walked in. "Oh...T-Teddy." He sniffed again, clearing his throat, turning to glance to his mother again. "I was-- I was just--" He cut off, inhaling deeply and closing his eyes, willing away further tears. He felt Teddy's hands on his shoulders, gentle and comforting, smoothing down his arms and then moving to wrap e sligaround his torso. Billy leaned back into the embrace, raising a hand to press over his eyes.

"Shhh, Billy." Unlike most of Billy's family, Teddy no longer addressed him formally. He appreciated it, though; it made their relationship feel more natural, and not so stiff. The affection he ended up feeling for the hybrid had surprised him; he had been afraid of meeting the emperor of the Skrulls, the mighty warrior who would quell the long-term feud between them and the Kree, but...he was kind. Very much so. It continued to astound him every day just how amazing he was. Teddy was the perfect negotiator of peace; gentle and kind, yet a strong leader when necessary. He moved the hand from his eyes to rest on Teddy's arm, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself.

"I had to..." He paused again, feeling a lump forming in his throat. "I... She couldn't control herself. Sh-she... I _had_ to put her to sleep, Teddy," he felt himself choke on the words, aware that he was attempting to convince himself just as much as he was his betrothed.

"I know," Teddy soothed, squeezing him gently. "I know." Billy's hand tightened on his arm, and he finally allowed his tears to fall, turning his head to bury it in one of Teddy's large arms. The larger male wrapped himself around him, pressing his face into his hair. "I'm sorry..." His words were soft, nearly whispered against the hair of his fiance.

Billy cried until he couldn't anymore, and he allowed Teddy to gently lift him to his feet, pulling him from the room. He walked him to the gardens, and when they passed Pietro, who was pacing uneasily, Billy's expression turned guilty. Pietro paused in his pacing, glancing at him questioningly, and the young mage nodded. Pietro's lips tightened into a fine line, and he nodded as well, before turning sharply and walking off at a rapid pace. Teddy squeezed his shoulder and lead him to sit on a bench, allowing the slighter boy to lean against him.

Billy's eyes were downcast, and he played with a loose string on his sweater absently, remaining quiet for a long moment. "I'm so... _worried_ , Teddy," he lamented, reaching to grip his fiance's hand. "That video...was _horrible_. I can't stop thinking about it." He lifted his knees, tucking them against his chest and wrapping his free arm around them, his other hand still holding onto Teddy's. "The weirdest part is that... We can't just magic him home!" His voice raised suddenly with distress, and he threw up his hands before wrapping his arms around his knees, giving a huff of frustration.. "It doesn't make any sense. The spells _should_ work, but they just… _don't_. It... They _have_ to have another magician with them." He sighed heavily. "But _who_?"

"I...I don't know.' Teddy squeezed him reassuringly, sighing and ducking his head so it was resting against Billy's. "I don't know, Billy. I wish I could help." He fell silent for a long moment, stroking his thumb along Billy's arm as he pondered the situation. Everything was falling apart inside the castle. Wanda had been driving herself mad with grief, and Pietro was _angry_ , lashing out against everyone who crossed his path. Noh-Varr seemed as stoic as usual, but Teddy could detect the underlying guilt from losing his prince, and the Kree seemed at a loss of what to do with himself. Mostly he trained, and rested in Tommy's room, only emerging when called upon. Billy was frustrated, upset, and confused. He often questioned their motives, why Tommy had been picked instead of himself, why they hated them so much. It was known that the royal family had enemies, of course, but no one had seen this coming. The castle seemed empty without him, devoid of the endless energy he always seemed to possess, regardless of whether he was causing mischief or fuming and snapping at everyone who passed. Without him around, the castle was...quiet, in the most uncomfortable way possible.

The loss of the rebellious young prince had a greater effect on the castle than anyone had expected.

"Billy..." An idea slowly occurred to Teddy, and he sat up a little, shifting Billy so that they two of them could face each other. "...Billy, have... Have you tried to find out _who_ the mage is that's helping the rebels?" 

Billy blinked at him, his expression blank. "...What? What do you mean?"

"I mean, have you cast a spell to find out _who it is_? If someone’s keeping you from finding Tommy..." Teddy released his hold on him, only rotating to watch the young, dark-haired prince as he worked through what he was saying.

"You mean..." He trailed off, his eyes lighting up, and he leapt to his feet. "Wait, yeah, I could try to find _him_!" Teddy stood as well, glad to have Billy genuinely smiling for the first time since Tommy had been taken. He loved seeing that familiar sparkle in his fiance's eyes, and he placed his hands on his shoulders.

"Let's go somewhere quiet and see what we can do." He took Billy's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze, smiling at him. He started walking with him, only then taking the time to think over how wise his suggestion had been. He had blurted it out when it occurred to him, thinking it was perfect, but hadn’t considered what could go _wrong_ with it. Sure, Billy was happy _now_ , but if it didn't work? If the mage was hiding Tommy, surely he could hide himself as well. He suddenly had a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach that this wouldn't go as planned; it was too good to be true, and surely whoever Tommy’s kidnappers were had thought of this. It had been pretty well-planned out, after all.

He followed Billy to a secluded area of the gardens, an area where he and his mother regularly meditated, with a clearing surrounded by tall hedges that left only one narrow point of access.. Teddy gave his hand a squeeze and then pulled away to allow Billy room as he sat in the center of the small clearing, crossing his legs. He lifted a hand to rub the back of his neck, fighting with himself about allowing him to do this now.

"Billy..." He crouched to kneel down beside him, sighing gently. The mage glanced up at him with wide, hazel eyes that clearly showed the desperate hope that Teddy knew his fiance was feeling.

"...Yes?" Billy's voice sounded worried, as if he was afraid he was about to receive more terrible news, the hope in his eyes threatening to shatter at a moment’s notice, and Teddy sighed lightly.

"Just...don't...get your hopes up too high, alright? I don't... I don't want you to end up hurting more if this doesn't work out." He hoped that it wasn't taken the wrong way, but Billy just gave a somber nod, glancing down briefly.

"Yeah, I... I know that this might not work. But I have to try." Teddy nodded in understanding, and Billy continued, his eyes softening and growing pained once more. “I can’t even…imagine how he feels. He has to… He has to _hate_ us, feel like we’ve abandoned him. I have to try.” When he turned his eyes upwards once more, they were no longer scared and desperate, but determined. 

Teddy gave a tiny smile, feeling a slight swell of pride at Billy’s remarkable selflessness and unwavering loyalty to his family, and then sat across from him, crossing his arms and resting a hand on his knee for encouragement. Billy closed his eyes, placed his hands gently on his knees with his palms facing upwards, allowing them to rest naturally, and began his breathing exercises. When he opened his eyes again, they were glowing blue, and Teddy watched in mild fascination. It always amazed him just how much carefully controlled power was inside the lithe boy he was engaged to. He often liked to sit with him while he meditated, and sometimes did so himself. He had been a little unsure about the practice at first, but he had soon realized just how calming it was to meditate, and it soon became more than just a way to try to connect with his fiance, growing into something that he appreciated and enjoyed.

They sat there for a few hours, and eventually Teddy closed his eyes as well, breathing calmly and allowing himself to relax while he waited with his fiance, ever hoping for the best possible outcome. He felt a subtle shift in the air, and glanced up, pulled from his trance; he wasn't the most perceptive to the “feel” of magic, but he had begun to recognize the changes in the atmosphere when Billy wielded his powers. He bent the fabric of reality itself, and Teddy was attuned to the slight ripple it caused by now.

Billy didn't look happy, let alone as serene and calm as he should have while meditating, and his chest began to heave a little, almost as if he was panicking. Teddy shifted uncomfortably, wanting to help, or to pull him from his trance, but he knew better; he had been warned of the danger of doing as much to a mage in the middle of a spell, not only to himself, but to Billy as well. So, he grit his teeth and waited, now fearing the worst.

A few minutes passed, and then the glow in Billy's eyes ceased so quickly it was almost startling, leaving him wide-eyed and panting for breath, obviously distraught. Teddy was immediately kneeling in front of him, gripping his hands and squeezing them. "Billy, Billy, look at me," he insisted gently, waiting until the mage's startled gaze met his own. Their eyes locked for a moment, and Billy's reflected pure terror before he crumpled, falling against Teddy's chest and letting out a broken sob. Teddy was shocked by the reaction; what had he found that was so bad? Was Tommy dead? Was he just distraught from failure? Did he come across something he shouldn't have?

"I-I found him," Billy said through ragged gasps for air, his entire body trembling. Teddy hugged him to his chest, waiting as patiently as he could for Billy to continue, though his previous feeling of dread increased to the point that it threatened to crush his chest under its weight. "Well...I-I didn't _find_ him, like...where he is, but..." he choked off with another sob, and then took a moment to compose himself. "He... The-the mage, he… He _knew_ I was looking for him, and...h-he told me that...that..." He squeezed Teddy tighter, his arms wrapped around his broad torso, apparently unable to say the words he was trying to get out without being overcome by emotion.

Teddy waited, stroking his hair, trying not to let his own anxiety show, to be strong for Billy. It took a few minutes before the prince stopped crying, and then he remained quiet, curled up against Teddy until he could get his breathing back under control. "While...while I was looking," he started, his voice slightly hoarse, but much softer than it had been a moment. "He said that they... _punished_ him, to punish me for disobeying, and… And...he showed me Tommy." Teddy felt his blood run cold, and he squeezed Billy out of instinct. He couldn't believe these people, these _monsters_. He was unable to keep an angry growl from escaping, having to fight to keep himself from shifting into his Skrull form in his rage. He wanted to find them, to rip their heads off from their bodies and their hearts from their chests, to make them pay for what they were doing to Tommy, and to Billy, and to the whole Maximoff family, who had been nothing but kind to him. Why would _anyone_ want to do this to them? To _Tommy_ , of all people?

Billy sniffled lightly, curling up tighter against Teddy's chest, burying his face there. "I-I barely even _recognized_ him, he was so... He was so..." He trailed off, giving a final, dry sob, his tears already spent.

Teddy watched his fiance, helpless to aid him and resigned to watch him drown in his misery. He had lost his brother, Teddy had lost a friend, and the Maximoffs had lost their center. He doubted that even Tommy knew how much of a positive influence he had on his family’s lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, I'm making no promises about when the next chapter is going to be posted, but I probably won't get to finish writing it until next week. I'm sorrryyyyy ahhhhh
> 
> Anyway, let me know what you think! I LOVE your comments. They give me strength. n.n


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tensions are rising across the board. At the House of Magnus, plans are being forged. Tommy finally gets a hint about the meaning behind his captivity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT SERIOUSLY I AM. I moved, went on vacation, worked a bunch, and literally _just,/i > got internet last night. Dx I'm just very excited to get to post this for you guys finally!_
> 
>  
> 
> _To everyone who's been leaving me comments: you guys are my lifesource, I swear. It makes me so unbelievably happy to read them, and to know that you guys want more! I should be (hopefully) updating much more regularly now; I have internet and loads of muse for this damned story. Of course, ailyn_moreau is my beta, and she's da bomb._
> 
>  
> 
> _Once again, there are trigger warnings in this chapter, though it's just suggestions of violence and brainwashing techniques towards a teen, nothing explicit._

**4 Months**

"Dammit..." Tommy was doubled over on the ground, one hand braced against the ground and the other pressed to his lips. He glanced at it, and, seeing red, spit out some of the blood that had accumulated in his mouth, glaring angrily at the spot it made on the ground. He rolled over tiredly to sit back, shifting to prop himself up against the wall of what was now his room, ignoring the others around him for as long as he could.

It had been a long time since he'd been captured. _Too_ damn long. He had begun to _expect_ being beaten, and once the realization set in that his parents were _not_ coming for him, that his mother and his brother were too _afraid_ to just _wish_ him back home, he began to grow angry and resentful. Were they really willing to subject him to this shit just to have someone to pass their precious crown down to?

“How are you feeling?” ‘Teacher’. His very voice stroked a raw nerve in Tommy, made him shudder in fear and barely repressed rage at the same time, and the fact that he still managed to sound _friendly_ was downright demeaning. Tommy wasn’t allowed to know his name, nor the name of any of his captors. He had his own, more satisfying names for them, but none of them were very pleasant, and contained numerous different expletives.

“Pissed off,” he spat, raising a hand to wipe out his mouth, raising a glare towards the two masked men in front of him. He didn’t even think before answering anymore; he just spoke, honestly and without question. He already knew would happen if he didn’t. 

“Good…” Teacher’s voice was nearly soothing at this point, and Tommy tore his gaze away, not wanting to look at him. He glanced down, observing himself bitterly. He had opted to wear his “nice” clothes, from back home, though he’d long since tossed away his tie. His sweater had holes worn into it and was stained with dirt and blood, and his pants were ripped in the knee, but they were _his_ clothes. They bathed him every few days, and each time they took his clothes from him (aside from his underwear), washed him down, dried him off, and then marched him back to his room. They left him an option of what to wear each time -- one of their uniforms, a black, form-fitting bodysuit, or his own clothing. He always picked the latter, and each time, he was punished.

“Why are you angry?” Tommy’s gaze snapped back up to meet Teacher’s, narrowing as if to see straight through the man’s mask.

“ _Because_ , you kidnap me for being _born_ to the wrong family, punish me for shit I was _raised_ for, when I don’t even _want_ to be the damn king anyway, and expect me to just _know_ what you want me to say, and--”

“We want you to speak the truth.” Teacher remained infuriatingly calm, and Tommy pushed himself to his feet, bracing an arm against the wall for support. He shook his head angrily, determined to point out how flawed and illogical their method was.

“Yeah, but you punish me even when I _do!_ ” “You are being taught. You must learn. Tell me, did your lessons at home have much effect on you? Did you honestly learn, or did you just do what you were supposed to in order to stay out of trouble?” The question made Tommy pause, and he thought over what he said. He…had learned his lessons, he behaved properly when the situation called for it, and yet at the same time he was constantly in trouble. He’d constantly acted out, he was always being sent to his grandfather to be reprimanded. He disrespected his teacher and his family and did things that were “improper” because he didn’t want to do what would be deemed otherwise. He sank back to lean against the wall again, pressing a hand over his face. “Just… Just stop. Please, just stop…”

“Answer the question.”

“I don’t want to.” His voice was smaller, quiet and broken. He hated this place and these people. All of them. His ability to lie to anyone, including himself, was being stolen from him every day and he hated it. He glanced up through his fingers as the large man who was in charge of his punishments took a step forward, recognizing the warning and shrinking back against the wall again. Tommy could hardly look at him without wanting to throw up. "Punishment". What kind of name was that? "Teacher" wasn't much better, but it was better than "Punishment".

“...I just did it to stay out of trouble. Sometimes. Most of the time I did what I wanted anyway.” His voice remained low, though he sounded defeated. Somehow, saying it aloud was a lot harder than admitting it to himself quietly. He was forced to admit his faults, to tell himself how and why he was in the wrong.

“And that is why you must be taught this way, Tommy. Otherwise you will not truly learn.” He sounded almost apologetic, as if it personally hurt him to do this to the speedster, and Tommy felt himself choke on a dry sob, sliding to sit down against the wall again, curling up and staring at the floor. Somehow, it seemed to make sense. No one at home could handle him, could keep up with him or force him to listen. Maybe the only way to get through to him _was_ this way, to slow him down and step-by-step teach him right from wrong. The realization was devastating.

The larger man, the Punishment that went hand in hand with his Teacher, stepped forward, and Tommy flinched back again, only to find, with some surprise, that Teacher held up a hand to stop him. He looked up at him in confusion, admittedly afraid of what was going to come instead as well, but was further surprised by what was said next.

“I think we have made impressive progress today. We will leave him be for the rest of the day, and let him decide how he wishes to dress himself today.” Tommy stared in wide-eyed shock as the two of them turned on their heels and promptly walked out of the room, leaving him sitting there against the wall, an arm still raised as if to fend off an attack. it took him several minutes to calm himself down and convince himself that it was alright; they didn’t believe in lying, after all. They were very honest with what they intended to do, no matter how terrible. 

He hugged his knees to himself and sat there for an hour or so, staring at the sleeves of his sweater and working his jaw. He ran his fingers across the material gently, mulling over his thoughts, able to actually _think_ about what he wanted with the absence of pressure from Teacher and his lackey. By wearing the clothing now, he wasn’t rebelling, he wasn’t lashing out against them and doing what he knew they didn’t want from him. He was able to decide whether he really wanted to continue this fight or not. Was it really worth clinging to something so material in light of his current situation?

Part of him wanted to say yes. These clothes were the only things he had left of home, aside from his memories and his name. Part of him wanted to cling to that, to keep them close no matter the cost, but another part of him didn’t care. He felt abandoned by his family, and even when he was home his family hadn’t truly cared what he wanted. Even Pietro, whom he was considerably closer to than the rest of his adult family, could only side with him in private. He rarely stuck up for him publicly, and, when he did, it was only to point out the strain that being a speedster could put on him in certain situations.

The only person he didn’t blame was Billy. Billy was thrown into the same life as Tommy, had been born into royalty and forced to bear the consequences. His twin had adapted to it better, had accepted his role as a token used for negotiation, had quietly accepted his fate and moved on. He’d grown to enjoy it and, because of his naivety, had been blissfully spared from being kept in a dark room, devoid of powers or friendly faces. He wouldn’t have handled it well, but then, he learned things the first time they were taught to him. He didn’t _need_ to be taught this way, like Tommy supposedly did.

Tommy stared at his clothes for a moment more, and then stood on shaky legs, peeling off his last reminders of home piece by piece and tossing them aside. He took a deep breath, and then grabbed the bodysuit, tugging it on.

\---

“How’s Billy?” Pietro’s voice was lowered, his usual bitterness softened by the situation they were all facing. Noh-Varr stood beside him on one of the many balconies of the palace, looking out over the grounds with a stoic expression. Pietro was leaned against the railing, his arms crossed loosely as he surveyed the area, eyes narrowed in something akin to the glare, as if the world had no right remaining so beautiful in light of what was happening to their family.

“Not much has changed. He still sits at his window every day, staring out of it.”

Pietro shook his head. "Damn." He gave a heavy sigh, his brows furrowing inwards. "Honestly, I didn't expect to hear anything different." He was quiet for a moment, shifting to lean a little more heavily against the railing and staring out over the lands they commanded, the sun slowly washing the hills a pinkish-orange. He wanted to be bitter about it, but he'd learned long ago that the world always moved on, with or without you.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, simply observing the land, until Pietro pushed himself to stand upright, tsking in annoyance. "I'm complaining about Billy doing nothing but sitting around staring out his window and I'm basically doing the same thing." He shoved his hands into the pockets of the jacket he was wearing, scowling down at the ground. "I just..." He paused, shifting to look at Noh-Varr.

He didn't talk about his feelings often; hell, that was an understatement. He _never_ talked about his feelings. He was considering making an exception, though, considering the feeling that was eating at his stomach on a daily basis. "Do you ever feel...guilty? That we let him get taken?" He broke eye contact with Noh-Varr, almost ashamed of feeling that way. Logically, he knew it was stupid that he felt guilty about what had happened with Tommy, but that didn't keep him from feeling that way, anyway.

He caught movement out of the corner of his eye, however, and glanced back to the alien, only to be met with a burning, intense, blue-eyed gaze. His brows raised lightly, and he paused; he'd seen Noh-Varr look pretty dangerous when the situation called for it, but even if they set fire to the whole castle and let it burn into the night, Noh-Varr's gaze would have burned brighter.

" _Yes_." The alien's voice was earnest, as if he were desperate to communicate that emotion. Noh-Varr was trained not to show his emotions; when he'd first joined them, he had been so emotionless it was unsettling -- but then, that was the Kree way. It had taken a while before he started loosening up around them and adapting to their culture, but he had always been considerably more reserved than your average person. Maybe that was why Pietro liked him so much.

It felt better, knowing that there was someone else who felt the same way that he did, who shared his despair at being unable to save the prince. It almost eased his mind, except that there was always that little whisper at the back of his mind, nagging him and tugging at his conscience.

The speedster pressed his lips together and turned away, fixing his gaze on the horizon once more. "...Yeah. Me too."

\---

**8 Months**

"What is your name?"

"Thomas Erik Maximoff."

"And your brother's name?"

"William Joseph Maximoff." The words fell from Tommy's lips almost automatically. He sat in the chair he was always guided to for his "lessons", his shoulders slumped and with bags under his hazy eyes. He was dressed in one of their clean, well-fitting bodysuits, and he no longer looked angry or rebellious. He was defeated, desperate, yet resigned to his fate.

"And how old are you two?"

"Fifteen." His tone was as dull as his gaze at that point, rattling off the answer with every bit of enthusiasm as one could muster after repeating himself for eight months straight.

"Have you lost track of time, Thomas?" Teacher's voice was gentle, sounding almost bemused by the question.

"Hmm?" Tommy twitched, his gaze flicking up to meet those of his masked captor, his muscles tensing as he shifted a little more upright. "What do you mean?"

"It is your _birthday_ , Thomas." He could almost hear the smile behind the words, as if a parent reminding a begrudging child that it was their special day, waiting to be met with enthusiasm and joy.

Tommy took a moment to turn that over in his mind, his brows furrowing. He gripped the arms of the chair, licking his lips. He glanced back up to Teacher, speaking carefully. "I'm...sixteen, then."

"That you are. As is your brother."

He almost hadn't considered that. Billy. His chest tightened considerably, and he pressed a hand over it, forcing himself to take a deep breath. He hadn't given much thought to his family in a long time, other than when asked about them in his lessons. He wondered, briefly, how his brother was celebrating his birthday. Was there a feast, while they pretended that nothing was wrong in Tommy's absence? Were they trying to make 'the best of things' while he rotted away in this prison? 'Just a year,' he could hear them saying. 'We just have to make it through the year, no point in sulking about.'

He swallowed thickly and turned his gaze to the fake Noh-Varr, who was watching him with a cruel smirk. He immediately turned his gaze away again; he was sure that, whoever that shape shifter was, they hated him more than anyone in the facility. He still had no idea why, of course, but they seemed to take distinct pleasure in his pain, whereas everyone else seemed to just be carrying out some sort of task. With the shifter, it was personal. He'd already tried time and time again to figure out what he could have done wrong to someone to make them hate him so, and cause them to be so eager to torture him with visions of the one who was supposed to be his best friend and protector, but he couldn't think of anything. It was quite likely they just enjoyed seeing others in pain, or that it was something his grandfather had done, or any number of reasons. He just hated that smirk.

He knew his lesson was about to continue, but before he could be asked the question that he knew was coming, he took the initiative.

"Why aren't I the rightful heir to the throne?" he nearly blurted out, and there was an uncomfortable, thick silence in the moments that followed. He was stared at by Teacher long enough that he felt he'd done something wrong, and he shifted in his seat uncomfortably, sinking down into it a little.

"...What did you ask, Thomas?" Teacher tilted his head slightly, and though he sounded pleasant, Tommy had a sinking feeling that he'd asked the entirely wrong question.

"...Why...aren't I the rightful heir to the throne?" he asked, more carefully this time, staring at the man before him balefully.

Teacher took a sharp step forward and leaned down suddenly, so that his face was inches from Tommy's own. The speedster shrank down in his seat, terrified by this gesture, as he'd never been so close to the man before. He could hear his breath, could actually see his eyes, and somehow, seeing physical proof that his Teacher really was a man, a human being that was doing this to him, made everything that much worse.

When he finally spoke, his voice was lowered to an angry growl that Tommy had not heard before, and it shook him to his bones.

" _The line has been broken_."

\---

"Billy..." Teddy's voice was gentle as he rubbed his fiancee's arm carefully, attempting to draw him out of his trance as he continued to stare out of his window. When he didn't receive a response, he gave a quiet sigh and tried again. "...Billy, it's your birthday."

The dark-haired mage shifted ever so slightly, barely angling his head so he could see Teddy. "...I know."

"Maybe you should--"

"You know who _else's_ birthday it is, Teddy?" He didn't mean to sound so cold, to sound angry. He knew that Teddy was just being nice, and trying to help him feel better, but he couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that threatened to cave in his chest.

"Yes, I do." He spoke calmly, and gently, but Billy continued anyway, turning an angry gaze outside of the window and hugging his knees to himself tighter.

"It's _Tommy's_ birthday. Who am I to sit in a castle and have a feast in my name and celebrate turning sixteen, when his is spent in some dirty cell getting the shit beat out of him just because?" He hadn't seen Tommy again, or attempted to; the first time had been enough of a lesson. However, the video of his twin being beaten, and the image he'd been shown by whatever mage was keeping Tommy from Billy's view was enough to convince him that his kidnappers were mindless, cruel beasts that just wanted to beat a child of royalty.

"I know, Billy, I know." Teddy moved both hands to his shoulders, rubbing them soothingly. "But it's not your fault. We don't have to party, just... Come talk to your family." Teddy was met with silence, and his brows furrowed heavily, his hands tightening on his shoulders briefly. "...Billy?"

He heaved a sigh, withdrawing his hands. He knew that it was no use. Billy was so wrapped up in his own misery and worry for his brother that he could focus on nothing else. He grabbed a small blanket and draped it over Billy's shoulders before letting himself out of the prince's room, closing the door quietly behind him. His hand lingered on the doorknob, and he closed his eyes, taking a steadying breath. He released the door, and turned sharply on his heel, striding down the hallway with new purpose.

He approached a set of grand doors in the palace, the guards on either side nodding and bowing to him before allowing him inside, opening the doors and shutting them behind him. There were many rooms inside the castle, but this particular room was none other than King Erik's personal dining area. It was lavish, with a beautiful view of the land. The table was big enough to allow for family gatherings when he wanted them, leaving no room for guests.

Erik was not seated at the table, but standing at the window, his hands clasped behind his back, as he surveyed the hills before him. "...Dorrek," he greeted him, and Teddy bowed his head lightly.

"Erik," he replied, his voice formal with a softer undertone.

"You have been in contact with your people, correct?"

Teddy nodded, his expression grim. "Yes. When I leave tonight I will be personally selecting the troops that shall be brought to Earth upon Thomas's arrival." He was all business, putting the lessons he had been taught since childhood to good use.

Erik turned to glance at him. "Do you expect any opposition to this?"

Teddy snorted, shifting into his Skrull form and forming a large fist, smirking lightly. "None at all. I am the Emperor after all, and my marriage to William is part of an agreement. If Earth needs my help, I will deliver."

Erik gave a slight sigh. "I am just glad you still care for young William after all this time, despite his behavior."

Teddy softened slightly. "He is grieving. I understand. Humans are much more... _Emotional_ than some of the other species in the universe. It's partially why I enjoy my time on Earth."

Erik nodded, turning his gaze back to the window. "Remember; no one else is to know of this, outside of those we've discussed. Not even William. I fear he is too fragile at the moment to process the implications of war."

Teddy nodded, returning to his human form. "I know." He bowed to Erik, who bowed his head in response, and then he turned and exited the room briskly, pulling out a communication device to call for a ship to pick him up. Erik listened to the door close, closing his eyes and raising a hand to rub at the bridge of his nose. He pressed a button on the wall beside him, one of the castle attendants responding almost immediately.

"Send Noh-Varr in here immediately, please."

"Right away, sir."

He waited quietly, knowing it would only be a moment before the Kree appeared at his door. Sure enough, so little time had passed before his doors were opening that it was a surprise that he hadn't been waiting just down the hall to be called.

He turned to face the Kree, who bowed formally. "My king," he greeted him, and Erik held up a hand to stop him.

"It's all right, Noh-Varr. You may call me Erik. You are a part of our family, even if it is in shambles." There was something almost sadly touching about how he referred to his house; the kidnapping had taken its toll on the entire family, including the great king himself.

Noh-Varr nodded, straightening and clasping his hands behind his back. "Your family will be rebuilt, Erik. We will get Thomas back and return things to normal. It won't be immediate, of course, but time repairs all wounds."

Erik surveyed him with an unreadable gaze, speaking carefully. "My daughter has been sleeping for half a year because she was unable to handle the grief of losing her son. My son is either at her side, or glaring at all that pass as he broods in the halls of the castle. One grandson is kidnapped and the other with stricken with grief from losing his brother." It was unsure what sort of response he expected from the Kree, but Noh-Varr answered as well as he could.

"If only Thomas knew how much this family truly depends on him."

"Mm, yes. I believe he's always considered himself to be an outcast." It was though a flip had been switched; the normal, commanding Erik had returned, and his gaze moved outside. "Pietro was much the same growing up. The world cannot keep up, and so they are alone."

They were silent for a few minutes, Noh-Varr waiting patiently for the king to mull his thoughts over.

"We will be going to war soon," Erik finally said, his voice lowered slightly.

"I had assumed as much. Thomas is their bargaining chip; as soon as they give him to us, there is nothing keeping us from striking. I also assume that they are aware of this."

Erik nodded. "In normal circumstances, I would ask you to lead an attack. However..." He finally withdrew from the window, walking closer to Noh-Varr. "As I've said before, I believe that Thomas will need you around. I want you to be here for him, so that he has someone to turn to when he feels like he has no one. Of course, I will always accept your advice on battle tactics, but your primary goal will be to care for Thomas. I hope this does not offend you, but I will not reconsider. I wholeheartedly believe this to be the best possible decision."

Noh-Varr shook his head. "No, sir. I... As much as I would like to do my part in the war, I would much rather be here for Thomas when he needs me. I believe it's a wise decision."

Erik nodded, reaching out and placing a hand on his shoulder. "Hard times are upon us, my friend, and it will be a long time before they truly improve, but we will prevail. They may not be aware of it, but the war has already started. The first shot was fired when they took Thomas, and the last will be fired when all associated with his kidnapping lay dead at my feet."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UGHHH BIRTHDAYYY. 
> 
> I wasn't actually planning on writing that in, but as I typed up the chapter it occurred to me that this is over the span of a year, and it seemed like good timing for it, so... Why not?
> 
> Also, Pietroooo. He's going to have a big role in this.
> 
> NEW CANON CHARACTER IN THE NEXT CHAPTER WHUT WHUT
> 
> (tell me what you think of the chapter; I hope it was worth the wait!)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A stranger from within the facility decides that a rescue is in order. When that fails, they find themselves returned to the House of Magnus, left to wait out the remainder of Tommy's kidnapping with the rest of his family. The year is drawing to a close, and everyone seems to have something weighing on their mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so... This was a quick update. I literally wrote this like two days after posting the last chapter. I've started on Chapter 6, but I don't believe that one will come quite as quickly as this one. However, I think everyone who's been reading deserves another chapter so soon after the last, since you had to wait a month for chapter 4. 'n.n
> 
> As always, thank you ailyn_moreau for being my beta. follow me on tumblr at snarkylittlespeedster.
> 
> Also, there ended up being two canon characters added into this. I intend to add more in the future if I can figure out how to work them in properly.
> 
> ALSO I FINALLY READ THE ACTUAL HOUSE OF M COMICS. lol, this was intended to be based off of the idea in a mutant-dominant world where the Maximoffs were royalty, even though they're technically supposed to be Magnus, so that's my mistake. I'm probably going to go through my story and change all of the "Maximoff"s to "Magnus". For now, we can just play pretend. c:
> 
> ALSO HOLY SHIT I'M ALMOST AT 500 VIEWS. that's amazing to me, thank you guys.
> 
> This chapter has some violence, but again, nothing too big. ENJOY (:

**11 Months**

“You have brought the supplies?”

“‘Course. Have I ever failed you?” The thief set down the suitcase he had carried into the room, giving the other man a charming smile as he unclipped the locks and flipped up the lid.

“Mm, not yet.” The stern man peered at the contents, and nodded. “Very good. Thank you.”

The thief scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Something tells me you lack confidence in me.”

“It’s not necessarily that. I’m sure you know of other thieves. Would you trust them?”

“...Well…no, honestly, I wouldn’t, so I’ll give that one ta you.” He smirked, and took the wad of cash that was handed to him, thumbing through it quickly before tucking it away into a jacket pocket.

The man raised a hand to his ear, placing a finger lightly over the earpiece he was wearing and listening intently for a moment. “Yes, that is fine. I will be there momentarily. Just have him wait.” He walked to the door, opening it and holding out an arm to his guest. “I trust you know your way out of here by now.”

“Yes, of course.” The thief exited and strolled down the hallway, listening to the footsteps of his client retreating behind him. He turned a corner, and then paused, retracing his steps and peeking around the wall. He licked his lips briefly, and then stepped back around the corner silently. “...Let’s see what you’re up to…” he mumbled to himself quietly. He’d been to the facility many times, but they were very hush-hush in their work; of course, plenty of people he’d done jobs for were, but it seemed a little different here. He didn’t even know where they were located; he always met at a rendezvous point and a teleporter took him to the facility. The idea of figuring out what exactly it was that they did in the facility proved to be just a bit too alluring to him, to the point where he could hardly restrain himself. His curiousity combined with the fact that he wasn’t escorted directly back to the teleporter for the first time gave him too much of an opportunity to pass up. He quickly but quietly moved down the hallway, peering around corners before he took them, trailing his associate from a distance .

The man opened a door that lead to a room with a two-way mirror, the silhouettes of two others visible inside. He waited until the door was shut, and then scooted forward quickly, peering through the window.

“What the…?” He breathed out, staring with wide eyes at the scene laid out before him. In the center of the room was a chair, and in it sat a very familiar white-haired boy. His head was lowered slightly, his eyes fixed on the floor in front of him, his hands in his lap with his fingers laced tightly together, his knuckles white from his grip. The boy raised his gaze lightly, looking at none other than the thief’s client, though he was now wearing a white mask. There was one other person in the room; a large, brutish man who was also wearing a white mask.

“What’s your name?” The thief watched on with narrowed eyes, drawing closer to the window for a better look.

“Thomas Erik Maximoff.” The answer sounded almost robotic, devoid of any real emotion. The boy’s clenched hands served as the only proof that he was displeased at his situation, the rest of him a carefully controlled facade of calm and obedience.

“And how old are you?”

“Sixteen.”

“Shit…” The thief ran a hand through his hair, biting his lip. _’I should go…’_ he thought to himself, but something was keeping him from it. Meanwhile, the conversation in the room continued.

“Do you have any right to the throne, Thomas?”

“I don’t.”

“Why not?”

Here, the boy faltered for just a moment. “Because…the line has been broken.” The thief pulled away, turning to walk away, to leave behind the boy and the psychopathic man he’d been stealing for, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket. This wasn’t his problem, it wasn’t his fight. He was in _their_ territory. Even if he _did_ try to do something, there was no way in hell that he would get away with it.

“Do you understand what that means?” He heard his employer’s voice again and stopped, turning back to look through the window. He licked his lips, staring at the two for a brief moment. Something about the whole situation seemed…off, and utterly inhumane. The boy was just that -- a boy. The questions he was being asked made Remy uncomfortable, and the expression on the boy’s face as he answered them was reason enough to believe that they weren’t asked with innocent intentions.

“...Ah, damn me for havin’ morals,” he grumbled under his breath, reaching into his jacket with both hands as he walked to the door. He pulled out two pieces of a staff, snapping them together, and opened the door, the staff lighting up with a purple glow.

\---

Tommy was used to the routine by now. He was always asked simple questions to start. His name and age, where he was born and the names of his family members. Then there was the important questions: Did he believe he had any right to rule? The answer was no. Why not? Because the line had been broken. What did that mean? He wasn’t sure. From there, it was questions about his childhood, from simple experiences to how he’d felt in relation to his sibling’s engagement, how he felt when he was put on the spot by his grandfather. It was strange, how their method had drawn out more accurate answers than he could have ever given himself. He supposed it just meant that whatever they were trying to accomplish was working.

He hadn’t expected anything to change.

He was sitting in the room, surveying Teacher with a gaze that was weary, but controlled. His anxiety still built every time he stepped foot into the room, there was no getting around it, but he’d learned to control his emotions, to hide them in order to survive the ordeal.

“Do you have any right to the throne, Thomas?”

“I don’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” He gave the briefest of pauses before continuing; he’d been given a clue as to why, but he still hadn’t deciphered it yet. However, repeating the phrase seemed to be enough for his captors. “The line has been broken.”

“Do you understand what that means?”

“No, not y--” he was cut off mid-sentence by the door slamming open. His head snapped to look at the intruder, and he froze. Their “lessons” had never been interrupted since his arrival, and something told him that whoever had just burst in was not supposed to be there. Not only was he holding a glowing staff that was pointed at Teacher, but he wasn’t wearing a mask. That in itself was enough to jar Tommy, the realization that this was the first real _person_ he’d seen since his imprisonment enough to shake him to his core. The only other face he had seen was that of the shapeshifter, in the form of Noh-Varr.

“Sorry ta interrupt, but I’m going ta have ta ask that you let the kid go.”

Tommy’s heart began to race, pounding in his chest and threatening to drown out the conversation with its beating. Was someone finally here to rescue him? Had his family decided enough was enough and sent someone to infiltrate? Was this one of their ‘special’ soldiers? He was so overcome with the possibility of a rescue that he could barely think to comply and make things easier on his rescuer. As soon as he shifted in his seat, however, Teacher turned to look at him sharply, and he froze, his hands gripping the armrests. He felt a familiar, large presence walk up on him, and he shrunk down in his chair.

Where were the others? Surely, this guy didn’t plan on saving him by _himself_.

“Mr. Lebeau…” Teacher said cool, turning to look at the man, who was still pointing the glowing staff at him. “I’m sorry if this sounds rude, but I’m going to have to ask _you_ to leave the property."

"I'm not going anywhere. I don't know what you're doing ta this kid, but I'm not okay with it."

"And you honestly believe that you can just... what? Barge in, ‘save’ Thomas, and help him escape?"

"I can damn well try." Lebeau narrowed his eyes, tightening his grip on his staff. Tommy found that, despite his fear of what was going to happen to him in the long run, he couldn't stop staring at Lebeau. This might just be a hoax set up by his captors, for all he knew, but he couldn't stop looking at him. He almost felt as though he needed to memorize what he looked like, so that when this was over and he was locked in his room again, he could look back on this moment and remember what it felt like to look at a _person_ again. 

There was a rush of air, and suddenly, the teleporter was in the room. Tommy hadn't seen him since they had filmed the video of him to send to his family, but he appeared directly beside Teacher. Lebeau pulled something from his jacket pocket and threw it; it also glowed with the purple light, but when it reached the two men, it exploded.

Tommy jumped, nearly falling backwards out of his chair. He felt like all of his senses were being assaulted at once, and he scrambled from his seat, allowing Punishment to step around him and move towards Lebeau. The smoke cleared, and Tommy expected to see Teacher and the teleporter in pieces, but they had disappeared from sight. It took him a moment to piece two and two together, but he was too distracted by the fight between Lebeau and Punishment, watching as the strange man knocked back his captor with near ease.

A moment later, the teleporter was back in the room, appearing between Tommy and the intruder. Lebeau reached in his jacket pocket again, procuring more of the objects that he had propelled at Teacher previously. They flew straight for the teleporter, but the man disappeared from sight once more.

Tommy had a split second to process everything, and it proved to be too much for him, especially without his powers.

"No--!" Lebeau's voice was sharp with panic, but it was too late. Tommy threw up an arm to protect himself, stumbling backwards, hearing the explosion before he felt it, his arm flaring with pain. He gave a cry and hit the ground, gripping just beneath where his arm hurt the most, his teeth clenched tightly together as he fought back the loud groans of pain that pushed themselves out anyway.

Feeling warmth on his hand, he peeked open bleary eyes, staring in shock at the blood pouring over his hand. His arm looked raw, tender skin barely showing under the streams of blood running down his arm. He swallowed thickly and dropped his head back onto the ground, closing his eyes again and trying not to feel too sick to his stomach.

He felt a large hand fist in his hair, and he was tugged up into a sitting position, and he heard a clicking sound that made him feel incredibly uneasy. Everything suddenly quieted down, aside from the pained pants and groans that continued to escape the speedster, and he squinted open his eyes to see what was going on.

"Make another move, and I will kill him. It would be a shame, considering he will be released in less than a month, but I made a promise that if an attempt to save him was made, he'd be killed. I assume you weren't aware of that." Teacher was back, standing slightly in front of Tommy with a gun aimed at his head. He stared down the barrel, feeling his chest tighten painfully. A month. He had less than a damned month before he went home, and he was going to die.

"No, no, hey, I'm leaving, _cher_. Let's not." Tommy looked at the intruder, who was standing with his hands held up in surrender, slightly extended as if to stop them from hurting the prince. He looked a little battered, but otherwise alright, and he turned an earnest gaze towards the speedster, and Tommy could see the apology glistening there. Tommy gave a weak groan, hoping that it passed off as pain to his captors, but words could not describe the overwhelming amount of disappointment he felt. He was so close to being rescued, _so close_ to going back home, and now he was going to be stuck here. He almost wished the attempt to save him had never been made; being let down crushed him more than anything he had experienced there so far.

"You're right," Teacher said calmly. "You _are_ leaving. We will no longer require your services, Mr. Lebeau." There was a flash of movement, and Tommy watched in horror as Lebeau was grabbed by the teleporter, and disappeared before his eyes. Things were quiet for a moment, and he stared at the spot his attempted rescuer had been standing, unable to accept that he was truly gone. It was the first time he'd felt like he'd seen a real _person_ since his captivity, but it seemed that he was doomed to leave as quickly as he arrived.

He was released, and he slumped to the ground, cradling his bleeding arm and fighting back tears that were threatening to fall, clenching his eyes shut.

"Call for the nurse. His wounds will need attending." Tommy opened his eyes, watching with a pained expression as Teacher turned on his heel and walked out of the room, tucking away his gun.

\---

"Shit, shit, hey! Can't we talk about this?" One second, Remy had been in the room, staring at the young prince, who looked more broken than any child ever should, and the next, he was on the edge of a roof, at least twenty-something stories high. He'd been pushed forward, and he was now precariously balanced, his arms held out, the teleporter's hand gripping the back of his jacket the only thing keeping him from falling to his death. _Think, Remy,_ think. _How are you going to get out of this one?_

He wasn't sure that he would.

"We don't have room for meddling thieves. You should have left while you had the chance."

"You know, I actually whole-heartedly agr-aahhh!" In the middle of his sentence, he was dropped, and he lurched forward, tumbling through the air. He felt panic gripping him; he was pretty sure there was no way out of this, and the ground was rushing at him awfully fast. He closed his eyes, and began to say his last prayers before he died.

He heard the screams of people below, and then a collective gasp, just as he felt himself stop falling. He opened one of his eyes with a cringe, afraid that his body had just tricked him into thinking he _wasn't_ going to die, but found himself hovering just a few feet above the ground. He was slowly rotated and then deposited on the ground, and he looked around for his rescuer.

"Somehow, you always seem to be in trouble, Remy." He finally laid eyes on her, and let out a sigh of relief.

"Not my fault everyone wants ta kill me," he grumbled under his breath, walking up to greet her and clapping her on the shoulder. "Thanks, Lorna. Er, Your Highness." The green-haired woman rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. The people around them fell silent, and a few of them started to lower to their knee, but she waved them off and motioned for the rogue to follow her.

"I don't really associate myself with that title any longer."

"I don't think you just _stop_ being royalty, Lorna." She gave an annoyed huff; a few years back, she'd had a bit of a "disagreement" with her father, though that was putting it lightly. She'd opted to leave the royal life behind, and no one had stopped her. "So, who's trying to kill you now, Remy?"

He stopped, suddenly remembering what exactly had happened. He glanced around them, and then took a swift step closer, lowering his voice. "About that. I need ta talk ta your old man."

She shot him a scathing look. "And you believe I can help you with that? Besides, what does a thief want to do with someone who could lock him in prison for the rest of his life?"

"I just saw your nephew." She halted, turning sharply and grabbing his arm.

"You don't mean...?" Her eyes were wide, and her gaze intense.

"Yeah. Tommy. Sorta why I was t'rown off a building."

"...Come on. I'm driving."

\---

"...Lorna." Pietro Maximoff was at their car before they'd opened the doors. He hadn't even seen the man arrive; of course, it was common knowledge that the man was a speedster, much like his nephew. Remy regarded him quietly, noticing how strikingly similar the man was to the captured prince he had seen earlier that day.

"Pietro." She climbed out of the car gracefully, her expression stern.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his tone gruff. He turned his attention to Remy, his eyes narrowing slightly at the scruffy rogue, a look that Remy returned. "And who's your friend?"

"The only lead I've had on Tommy this entire last year."

Pietro froze, his eyes widening, and suddenly he was in front of the rogue, gripping his arms tightly. "What? What have you heard?"

Remy blinked, leaning away from him slightly. "It's...not what I've heard, per se."

What Pietro said next was so fast that all Remy heard was a buzz, and he blinked at the speedster. Lorna sighed, walking over and grabbing Pietro's arm. "Let's go inside. Our father will want to hear this, I'm sure."

Pietro watched her with wide eyes for a moment, and then nodded, stepping away. "Right. I'll go grab him. You two, _hurry_." He disappeared a moment later, and Lorna sighed. She was obviously on edge, and just as ready to try and find a resolution as her brother, but she was doing a much better job at containing herself.

"Charming lad," Remy commented lowly, shoving his hands in his pockets and trudging after her towards the castle. He was starting to re-think his decision to come to the royal family with the information he had. It wasn't going to help them, and what he had seen was nothing to be happy about. Not only that, but he had accidentally attacked the kid and almost gotten him killed. He'd probably made things ten times worse on him for his remaining time at the facility than they already had been. Not that, but the look the kid had given him when it was obvious he wasn't being rescued was something that was probably going to haunt the Cajun's dreams for a while.

"He's not the nicest guy alive, no," Lorna agreed, walking briskly towards the castle. The doors were pushed open for them, and he walked inside after her, glancing around at the massive structure.

"Hmm...comfy," he commented lightly, pulling his jacket a little closer to himself. The more he thought about it, the more he thought that this was a bad idea all together. Then again, it was too late to back out, and doing so at this point would be worse than telling them the truth.

Pietro appeared in front of them again, and Remy once more took a step back at his sudden appearance, cursing under his breath. "Could you try not ta do that?"

Pietro gave him a withering look, then turned his attention to Lorna. "He's waiting for us in the meeting hall."

She nodded, and Remy followed the siblings throughout the castle. They approached a massive set of double doors, which opened into an even larger room, with a long, large table running down the center. Currently, it wasn't set with any food, but clearly it was nothing less than a feast when it was. Remy felt that it was entirely too large for a meeting of four people, but he supposed that, in a castle such as this one, hardly anything was appropriately sized. 

The King himself stood at the head of the table, his hands braced against the wood and his chair pushed back. His presence demanded a sort of reverence, and while Remy wasn’t generally inclined to do as he was told, there was something about the king in that moment that pushed him to keep his mouth shut. 

“...This is the last place I saw my grandson before he was taken,” the king began, his voice lowered and pained. “It is less than a month before he is returned to us, if his kidnappers have not lied to us.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “What news do you have? We were sent a video shortly after his capture, and they seem to believe that beating a child will win them some sort of victory. Do you know if this is still something they practice?”

Remy suddenly felt very uncomfortable. Where for most of the world, once the rumor of the prince’s disappearance had turned into a confirmed story, it was nothing but that; a tragic story. But here, in this room, the air was thick with the loss of a child, in the hands of violent, psychopathic strangers who left the family no room to help him. It was inhumane, and cruel in the worst of ways.

“Unfortunately… None of the news I’ve got is good, aside from the fact that he’s alive, and physically well… Fer the most part.” He added the last bit in a slight undertone; he’d _been_ physically well, until Remy’s misplaced attack had found the prince instead of its target. They didn’t seem too worried that the boy was hurt, but then again, he’d seemed to be in decent health before Remy had intervened.

“That, at least, is news,” Erik said, breathing out a slight sigh. Pietro stood beside his father, his arms tightly crossed, and his lips pressed together, glaring at nothing in particular as he listened. Remy cleared his throat and continued.

“I, er… Tried ta rescue him, but…” He shifted uncomfortably. “They threatened ta kill him, so I stopped, and then the damned teleporter t'rew me off a skyscraper. Lorna’s the only reason I’m not dead at the moment.” He jerked a thumb in her direction, and she glanced from him to her father.

Erik was quiet for a long moment, brooding over the information, rubbing his jawline and then flicking his gaze back to the thief. “...What’s your name, again?”

“Er… Remy Lebeau.”

“And how exactly did you stumble across Thomas?”

Remy faltered, and suddenly, all eyes were on him. Lorna’s gaze narrowed, as did Pietro’s, and she spoke up. “Yeah, Remy. How _did_ you find him?”

“Oh, uh…” He raised a hand to rub at the back of his neck. _'Great,'_ he thought to himself bitterly. _'You've done it this time, ya rotter.'_

"Well...I didn't... _know_ it, exactly, but I sort of...ran _errands_ for the guy in charge of the place." Suddenly, everyone shifted closer to him earnestly.

"What? Do you know where they're keeping him then? Where is he?"

"Whoa, hey, no. I have no idea," he said, holding his hands up defensively. "It wasn't like that. They didn't trust me like that. There were rendezvous points, I'd meet up with their teleporter, and he'd take me there. For all I know, they could be in France."

The room was quiet a moment longer, the air stagnant with disappointment. He found himself once more contemplating the wiseness of his decision to come to the family with this. It seemed he was only serving to hurt them further.

"...Tell me everything that happened, please," Erik said, his voice lowered. He fixed Remy with an intense gaze, and the thief nodded, looking between the gathered family members.

"Well... I was told ta leave, ta go meet the guy to take me back, but before that he'd said something on his radio about 'having him wait'. I had no idea what it was they did there, so I decided ta follow him. He went into a room that had a two-way mirror, and... He jus' started asking him questions."

"Questions?" Erik cut in, a little sharply. "What kind of questions?"

"Er... His name, how old he was, if he had any right to rule, then they asked 'im why not."

"Why _not_? Erik asked, his eyes narrowing.

"Well... I think the kid was just telling them what they wanted ta hear, honestly."

"And what did he say?"

Remy swallowed, shifting again and rolling his shoulders slightly. "He uh... I mean, he said his name, that he was sixteen, and that he didn't have a right to rule. He said somethin' about 'the line being broken'. They asked him if he knew what it meant, and he was saying no when I went in and stopped 'em."

The room was suddenly silent, and the tension in the air was so thick that Remy could practically taste it. He stood there for a moment, awkwardly surveying the three royals. "...Does that...mean anything to you guys?"

They still didn't answer for a long moment; everyone seemed intent on not looking at each other. They all had their arms crossed, their expressions showing varying levels of strain. Erik and Pietro seemed the most bothered by the news, but Lorna definitely didn't look happy, either.

"...No, it doesn't." Remy quirked a brow, but said nothing. He glanced to Lorna for an explanation, but she refused to look at him, chewing on her bottom lip and staring at the floor.

The room remained quiet for a longer moment, and then Erik cleared his throat, turning his gaze back on Remy. "Thank you, Mr. Lebeau. If you don't mind, I'd like some time to think this over. Do you mind staying in case of further questions? I will supply a room."

"Not at all," he said, taking a step back; he was ready to get the hell out of there.

Erik nodded. "Thank you for your information. It brings me at least a little comfort to know that he remains relatively unharmed."

He nodded in return, and Lorna gestured for him to follow. He felt a rush of air as he turned, and glancing back, he saw that Pietro had already left the room. He pressed his lips together, and followed his friend out of the room.

She went with him to a room he could stay in, explaining where some amenities were. "If you have any questions, just ask any of the staff, and they will help you."

"Lorna, wait."

She paused, turning back to look at him. "Yes?"

"...What does that mean, _really_? 'The line has been broken'?" He fixed her with a scrutinizing gaze, his eyes narrowed.

"I don't know, Remy. We already told you that."

"No, your _father_ told me that, and _pardonnez-moi_ , but he was lying."

She narrowed her eyes. "He _wasn't_ , Remy."

"I know when people lie, _cherie_. It happens to be something I'm good at."

Her gaze hardened. "Just leave well enough alone, Remy. There's a lot about this family that you don't know, nor do you need to." She turned and walked briskly out of the door, leaving him to glare after her.

They were hiding something, and somewhere, Tommy was having to pay for it.

**12 Months**

"Thomas."

Tommy looked up from the chair he was in, his arm extended for the nurse to give him his daily dose. His injured arm was wrapped and secured in a sling, but he looked worn. His remaining time with his captors was taking its toll on him; he knew he was due to be released any day now, and the underlying terror that they wouldn't hold true to their promise had been eating at him with each passing moment.

"...Yes?"

"I only have one question for you today."

Tommy paused, tilting his head to look at Teacher with confusion. "...What is it?" he asked after a moment, wetting his lips. He wasn't sure what to expect; he'd never been asked just _one_ question, and the anxiety it brought on made him lightheaded.

"Why are you not allowed to rule?"

It felt as if it took entirely too long for the question to process, and therefore, his answer came slowly. "Because... The line has been broken," he said, his brows furrowing inwards. Was he slurring?

"Very good. Remember that, Thomas."

Tommy nodded numbly, his head suddenly feeling very heavy. His vision swam, and his head dropped forward, his eyes closing.

His brain felt sluggish when he woke up. It was like it took him a few minutes to even realize he was coming to consciousness, like each thought he made had to be dragged through the mud first. He furrowed his brows, closing his eyes tighter; he felt uncomfortable, and he wasn't entirely sure why. After a moment, it began to bug him, and he squinted his eyes open. He was met with a painfully bright light, and he raised his uninjured hand to shield his eyes.

Realization began to dawn on him, and he jerked to sit upright a little, looking around and silently begging his eyes to adjust to the light. He felt something scratching his hand, and he looked down, working his fingers against the material.

_Grass._ It was _grass_.

A strangled noise pulled from his throat, and he had to choke back a sob. Was he really gone? He looked around him desperately, trying to find some sort of proof that this was all a hoax before he gave in. There was nothing; he was in a grassy field, trees scattered around him. It was sunny, and warm, and there were birds. Beside him, there were two bottles of water, and an orange.

Another sob was pulled from him, but this time he gave in, laying back down in the grass and trying to wrap his head around the fact that he was there. He was outside, he was no longer in that damned prison; he was _free_.

He laid there for a long time, soaking in his environment. He eventually rolled onto his back and closed his eyes, enjoying everything around him. The sound of the birds, the feel of the grass and the breeze, the smell of fresh air. It wasn't until his stomach gurgled at him in protest that he finally sat up, staring at the orange for a long moment before reaching for it numbly. He peeled it a little clumsily, having to cradle it against his chest with his hand in the sling, digging into the skin with his other hand.

It was then that he noticed that he was back in the clothes he'd been wearing when he'd been taken. They were still tattered, but relatively clean, though blood still stained the cloth in some places. He stared at himself for a long moment, and then, deciding he wasn't entirely sure what to make of it, he continued to peel his orange, eating it in silence.

He quietly emptied one of the water bottles, and then grabbed the other, standing and looking around. Where was he supposed to go? He had no idea where he was, and he could tell without trying that he was still deprived of his powers. The thought that they had somehow managed to rid him of them completely crossed his mind, but he pushed it away. He wasn't mentally capable of handling panic right then, so he did the only thing he could; he walked.

A few hours later, he still hadn't found any sort of civilization, and his second bottle of water was long gone. He felt weak and drained; the sun was starting to set and he had no shelter, nor any way to make some. He licked his cracked lips, raising his hand to briefly shield his sunburned face from being marred further by the sun, and tried to squint in the distance, to see if there was any sign of a town or road nearby. Finding nothing, he dropped his hand, and staggered a few more steps. He was just going to sleep where he fell down, maybe tomorrow he'd have his powers back and he could find someone--

There was a flash of blue light, and he shielded his eyes with his arm, taking a step back.

" _...Iwanttofind_ \-- Tommy!"

He lowered his arm, staring in wide-eyed disbelief at the people gathered in front of him. Billy, Teddy, Noh-Varr. All three of them looked almost as surprised to see him as he was them, and Billy launched forward.

"Oh my god, oh god..." He threw his arms around Tommy, who winced at the pain in his arm, but otherwise didn't react, in shock.

"B-Billy..." he stammered out his brother's name, and then raised his arm to wrap around him almost numbly, still staring at the other two in shock. He felt his brother crying against his neck, and something clicked inside of him. "Billy..." his voice was watery, and he choked on the word at the end. He moved his hand to the back of Billy's neck, gripping him tightly and burying his own face in his sibling's neck, his knees buckling. He sobbed again, this time more freely than before, clutching to his twin for dear life. "I can't-... Th-they..." He was so scared, so terrified that this wasn't real, but he couldn't say it out loud. He wouldn't be able to handle it if it weren't.

"Shh, Tommy," Billy said, his voice watery, and he squeezed his twin closer. "It's over now. It's _over_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GAMMMBBIIIITTTTT...and Lorna. lol. Nah, unlike in the comics, she's a little rebel child in this one. There's a lot of secrets from within the family that are going to start coming to light. Never fear, m'dears; just because Tommy has finally been returned home does not mean there will be any lack of drama. There is PLENTY left to this story!
> 
> Let me know what you think! I love getting your feedback <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy has finally returned home after being captured by rebels for a year, but things just aren't the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up: I'm probably going to end up accidentally fluctuating with Remy's speech. I think, after this chapter, I'm going to settle with some basic rules on which words I change, and leave the rest to the imagination. Writing out cajun speech is damn near impossible. However, I may change my mind at a later date.
> 
> Also... TA-DAA, I hope you enjoy.
> 
> As always, thanks to my lovely beta, Ailyn, and to all of the darling Marvel/YA/HoM/etc fans that continue to read this fic and give me positive feedback. This is the most well-organized and thought-out fic I have ever written, and every comment makes me feel great about it! It seems like every time I lose the muse to write it, someone leaves me a really awesome comment and it just kicks me back into gear. I love you all, thank you for your continued support! (:
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR: Mentions of past abuse, Anxiety Attacks

The House was silent.

It was as if everyone was holding their breath so as not to disturb the newly returned prince. Words were spoken in hushed tones, and doors were eased open and shut. Even after he woke, everyone was afraid to speak, as if a single muttered word could bring him crashing down.

He hated the silence. He sat in a bed that was entirely too large for him, surrounded by a hundred pillows and made to be so comfortable, it actually made him uneasy. Was this how he was normally treated? It didn't feel like it. Before he'd been taken, everything had felt very natural; it had been so _right_. Now...everything just felt _wrong_.

Noh-Varr sat on the other side of the room, stoic and ever-watching. He was almost motionless, a statue of protection, but Tommy couldn't look at him. He kept expecting him to sneer, to look at him and revel in his misery, but he kept the mindset that if he didn't look, he wouldn't have to worry about it. Guilt pushed him to cast glances his way; deep down, he knew his was the _real_ Noh-Varr, and that he would never be harmed by him, but he couldn't help how uneasy the Kree made him feel now. Still, when his eyes met those of his friend, even though he looked away in guilt, no judgement showed in the Kree's gaze.

Eventually, the door opened; carefully, as though the intruder felt like just that. Erik stepped into the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. He nodded to Noh-Varr, but didn't ask him to leave, instead turning his attention to Tommy, who watched him with a tired and wary expression.

The King was quiet for a long moment, surveying his grandchild, who still showed physical evidence of his capture. "...Are you comfortable?" he asked, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

Tommy blinked, glancing down at himself, swathed in silk blankets, on the softest bed he'd ever felt, and then back up to his grandfather. "No," he said, and paused before continuing. "...But there's nothing you can do about that."

Erik gave a short nod; apparently, Tommy's answer came as no surprise to him. This, in return, didn't surprise the speedster; very little seemed to catch his grandfather unaware. They remained silent for a long moment, the air heavy with words unspoken. Tommy looked down at his hands, and then out his window, sighing.

Erik spoke up again. "I... Is there anything I _can_ do?" He asked. The pause in his words caused Tommy to halt before replying; he'd never seen him so vulnerable before. Where his grandfather usually knew exactly what he was going to say and when he was going to say it, he now seemed to struggle for the right words. He didn’t offer comfort often, and though Tommy knew that he was genuine in his offer to help, he almost resented it. He hadn’t cared much about his needs _before_ he’d been taken, so why should he now?

Tommy looked his lips, looking down at his hands. "I don't..." He paused again, the air feeling thick and his answer lodged in his throat. He didn't know what to say. He knew that his family just wanted to help him, and to be there for him, but he'd never been particularly close with his grandfather, and he honestly didn't know what to tell him. "...No," he said, quietly. He had to swallow down the bitter words that threatened to make themselves known. ‘ _You could tell me you’re not going to force me to be king. You could say you’re fucking sorry for what happened._ ’ He didn’t have it in him to argue, however, and he really didn’t feel like creating even more tension right then. "No, there's nothing."

Erik fell silent again, his lack of a response only adding to the tension in the room. It made Tommy feel uncomfortable, like he was going to choke on his own inability to give his family the comfort he knew that they needed. It conflicted heavily with the urge to scream at him, to tell him everything he had been thinking of saying since the day he got captured. He had been harboring so much anger, had heavily resented his family for not rescuing him, but he didn't have the energy to express it anymore. Deep down, his anger simmered, waiting to erupt into flames again, but at the moment, it was outweighed by a misplaced guilt to help his family, or more appropriately an inability to properly express himself after shoving down his true emotions for so long at the hands of his torturer.

The silence only lasted maybe ten seconds, but it felt like a lifetime to Tommy before his grandfather finally answered him. "...If there is _anything_ I can do, Thomas, please let me know." He tried not to cringe at how formally he was addressed, but was sure that it had shown.He ducked his head and nodded numbly, still staring at his hands and silently begging his grandfather to leave him in peace, to remove the weight of his misplaced need to comfort the man he so desperately resented from his shoulders. He didn’t look up to watch him go, waiting for the click of the door to signify that the King had left, and let out a long, slow breath, glancing at Noh-Varr before returning his attention to the window once more.

\---

Pietro visited him as well, but it had been nearly unbearable. The man was obviously carrying so much guilt, but he didn't seem to want any sort of validation that things were okay from Tommy. The prince appreciated it, but he could see the pain in his uncle's eyes, and knew that he didn't have the strength to carry his emotional burdens. He carried his own misplaced guilt in that regard; he was considerably closer to his uncle than he was most of his family, his own twin aside, and any anger he’d felt towards his uncle had dissipated when he saw him.

Lorna visited him as well, angry at first at what had happened to him. She had cursed and raved, her fists clenched angrily, but had calmed when she saw how uncomfortable she made her nephew. She eventually settled down and told him stories of what she’d been doing the past few years; missions she had gone on, foes she had defeated, and even a few drunken bar fights. It had actually made him feel a little bit better overall - he felt as though he were actually at home with his family, rather than locked inside of another prison.

Billy came to see him often. He was the only person Tommy felt truly comfortable around since his return, and was almost like his tether to the real world. Everyone else acted so...tense, as if afraid of speaking about what happened out loud. Billy told him everything he knew -- which, granted, wasn't much, but it was enough. He was the only reason that Tommy even knew that his mother was in a magically induced sleep, or had any idea of what had happened in the past year in regards to current events. He’d picked up on the fact that Billy had withdrawn into himself as well at one point, and though he wasn’t necessarily surprised by that, he was curious about what exactly had happened to cause him to react that way. Every time he brought it up, however, Billy would suddenly look incredibly guilty, and excuse himself from his room, looking flustered.

It took a while, but eventually Tommy managed to pry the information out of his brother. The darker-haired twin sat at the foot of his bed, crossing his legs and twisting his hands nervously. "I was... I was desperate to find you," he said, as if admitting some terrible thing. "I'd tried looking for you directly, but it just... it wouldn't work."

Tommy worked his jaw, mulling over the information. Was this what his brother felt so badly about? "Billy..." he started, quietly. "That's... I didn't know..." He paused, taking a deep breath. "I...assumed you guys didn't even try because of the threat they made. I'm... I'm sorry." Suddenly, Tommy felt himself in his family's place; smothered by guilt that he needed to relieve himself of. How could he have thought such terrible things about them? At the very least, he should have considered Billy; his twin wouldn't abandon him so easily.

Billy's response to his words only confirmed his thoughts. "What? Tommy... I couldn't just _leave_ you there after I saw what they were doing to you!" He looked distressed at the very thought, his eyes wide, and a little bit of hurt shining there.

Tommy cringed. "You... You saw that?" He pressed his lips together, both embarrassed and a little angry. He expected all of the adults to have seen it, but Billy? Who had decided _that_ was a good idea? He had half a mind to blow them up, whoever it was.

Billy nodded grumpy. "Yeah...it...it was horrible. I can't believe..." He shifted closer to Tommy, one of his hands twitching away from his body awkwardly, as if he had tried to reach out and comfort Tommy, but thought better of the decision, and settled back down.

"It's fine," Tommy said, a little more gruffly than he had meant to. Billy seemed to wither just a little, his gaze returning to his hands as he continued.

"Well...there was...something _blocking_ me. I just couldn't find you. I couldn't bring you here, couldn't go to you, couldn't see you. I figured it was a mage that was hiding you, so...Teddy had the idea for me to look for _him_ , instead, so I did, and..." He talked off, taking a deep, calming breath. Tommy found himself sitting forward, his fists clenching in his blankets, anxious to hear what had happened. Had Billy gotten hurt trying to find him? Had this sorcerer attacked him? Who was he, to block Tommy from the sight of his brother? Obviously, his captors had been even more thorough than he had thought.

"He..." Billy seemed to struggle here, and for the first time since Tommy's return, Noh-Varr joined the conversation.

"The sorcerer showed him an image of you while you were injured, insinuating that it was due to his actions, and told him that if he attempted to find you again, you would be killed."

Tommy fell silent, in shock. It was strange to hear Noh-Varr talking to him again, though it shouldn't have been, but hearing what had happened to his brother while looking for him only made him stirred an emotion he’d been withholding since he’d returned home.. It made him absolutely seethe with rage. He knew his brother, and he knew how something like that would have affected him. His fists shook for a moment, and then he suddenly relaxed them, sitting back against his pillows and forcing his anger under control. Billy peered at him oddly, confused by the quick flash of emotions he was portraying.

He took a deep breath, and then raised his eyes to meet those of his brother's. "Billy..." He began, somewhat surprised with the calmness of his own voice. "Trust me; nothing you did had _any_ effect on me. Any time they hurt me, they made it very clear why. If you saw me hurt, it was probably because of something I did that they didn't like, which happened a _lot_." The room fell quiet once more, and he glanced between Billy and Noh-Varr, who were both staring at him with various expressions. Billy looked shocked, and a bit sad, while Noh-Varr just eyed him intently. Tommy sank down into his pillows, once more feeling as though the air were thick enough to suffocate him. It occurred to him that he had just mentioned some of what had happened to him for the first time, and he hadn't really meant to. He didn't have any wish to speak about what had happened to him; it all felt very humiliating and degrading, and very _private_.

He tossed back his covers, scooting to the edge of his bed and getting to his feet almost gingerly. "Anyway," he said, his voice lowered to a mumble. "It's not your fault. None of it was. I'm...gonna take a shower, and probably nap. I'm tired." He didn't look at either of them as he shuffled to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

He reached up and unclasped his sling, letting it fall to the floor before removing his shirt as well, and held out his arm so he could look at it as he unwrapped the bandage around it. It was mostly healed, but it was still tender, and you could see the remnants of his burns there. He ghosted his fingers across the wounds, barely wincing when he felt them sting. He pulled away his hand and let the rest of his clothes fall, stepping out of his pants and turning to observe himself in the mirror.

There were faint outlines of bruises on his pale skin, and his brows furrowed in lightly as he turned to observe himself. He was...too pale, though you could see where he had burned while wandering the plains he'd been set loose in. He poked one of the bruises, and dropped his arms, frowning at himself in the mirror. He felt like his skin was made up of mismatched puzzle pieces, the fading yellows and browns the only proof he had left that the past year had really happened.

He made a sound of disapproval by sucking against his teeth, his lips pressing tightly together as he continued to look himself over. When the bruises faded, what would be left? Would there be any difference in who he was and who he'd become, or would all physical proof of the year-long absence be lost when his wounds healed? The thought made him strangely unhappy, so he brushed it aside.

He straightened slightly, looking for differences in his appearance. Were his shoulders broader? He had a vague memory of wanting that to happen. Maybe he'd grown taller? Were his cheekbones more defined? He stared at himself for a few minutes, but his entirely body seemed foreign. He couldn't actually remember what he'd looked like a year before. Probably more muscular. Healthier. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d been _smaller_ , however; if not in the physical sense, then as a person. The old him seemed so insignificant, so naive and immature. He leaned in closer to the mirror, observing his face, and found that the only real difference he could notice was in his eyes.

There was a sharp knock on the door and he jumped, taking a step away from the mirror and glancing towards the source of the sound. "Thomas?" He stared at the door for a long moment, and then opted not to answer it, moving towards his shower and reaching in to turn it on. He stepped inside, giving a soft sigh as the water spilled over him. He pressed his back to the wall, and sank down into a sitting position just as the door opened, closing his eyes and letting the water run over his entire body. He felt Noh-Varr approach more than he heard him, the alien's footsteps as quiet as ever. He peeked open his eyes and saw Noh's silhouette outside of the warped glass door of the shower, and sighed lightly.

"Thomas--" Noh began, but Tommy cut him off.

"Don't call me that."

Noh-Varr paused, and then continued smoothly. "I'm sorry. I'm not trying to offend you." Tommy pursed his lips and closed his eyes, leaning leaning his head back against the wall of the shower again.

"S'fine," he mumbled, crossing his arms over his knees.

Noh-Varr remained quiet for a long moment, and then spoke, carefully. "...Tommy...do you resent me?"

Tommy's head picked up and he looked at Noh-Varr's silhouette for a moment. He'd expected a conversation about his avoiding Noh, but being asked if he resented him? Was he that rude towards him?

"Resent you?" He asked, a little quietly. "Why would I resent you?"

"For my inability to protect you." The answer was smooth and almost immediate; apparently, Noh has been thinking on this a lot. Hell, of course he had. He's only dedicated his _life_ to protecting Tommy, and probably felt as though he had failed in that goal when it really mattered. "I would understand if you did--"

"I don't resent you, Noh," he said, the tone of his voice unintentionally devoid of emotion. "It's nothing like that."

Surprisingly, Noh didn't pry or ask for further explanation, although Tommy knew that now he was going to be left wondering why. He sighed; it probably would have been better to have just let Noh think that was the reason. It definitely would have been easier than telling him the truth. He moved his face to avoid the immediate spray of the water, and took a deep breath.

"...You..." He paused, trying to figure out where to start, and tried again. "The whole time I was there, until the end when some guy -- Lebeau was his name -- busted in, I didn't see anyone. Everyone wore a mask. Except... Except for you." He paused, pressing his lips together. He didn't feel quite as flustered as he had expected to from speaking about what had happened. If anything, he almost felt like he was just reciting a script he'd memorized. "It...wasn't _you_ , obviously, but...it was a shapeshifter that _looked_ like you. And they..." He broke off, finally feeling something akin to panic clutch at his chest. He swallowed thickly; he wanted to tell him _everything_ , but the words wouldn't come. He felt himself shudder slightly at the memories he was recounting, and he closed his eyes again. "...They watched," he finally finished, his voice breaking.

Noh-Varr was silent for a long moment, and then a stream of the angriest-sounding alien curses Tommy had ever heard spilled from his mouth, startling him. He shrank down, wrapping his arms around his knees and ducking his head forward, trying to calm his now uneven breathing, his limbs trembling. Noh quieted, and Tommy wondered, for a moment, if he had caused the alien to become angry with him. It was an irrational thought, but he couldn't chase it away.

The door to the shower was pulled open, and Tommy jumped, staring up at Noh with wide eyes. The alien kneeled beside him, and pulled him into his arms securely, not seeming to mind that he was being drenched in the process of comforting his charge. Tommy stiffened at first, refusing to move, and then finally sank into his embrace, one hand moving to clutch at his shoulder, keeping him close.

\---

Tommy had Noh-Varr share the bed with him from then on.

He didn't feel _safe_ with him around, per se, but he didn't exactly feel safe with anyone. He just found himself craving the closeness; it was comforting to have someone always at his side. Erik tried to visit him again, but Tommy acted somewhat cold towards him, every word carrying a meanness that he didn't intend. He knew that his grandfather wasn't truly to blame for what had happened to him, but he resented him with every bone on his body. Because of this, he avoided him like the plague, and surprisingly, he wasn't called on.

He was more than happy to be left alone, though; he didn't feel like talking much. Noh-Varr and Billy were the two people who seemed capable of being around Tommy without making him feel pressured into talking. Teddy wasn't terrible to be around, either, but he seemed terribly busy ask of a sudden, and was rarely around, either running ‘errands’ or disappearing to visit his people for short periods of time. Billy noticed his fiance's absence as well, and his own craving for company left him spending quite a bit of time with his twin.

Tommy had tried to visit his mother, once. However, the very sight of her, sleeping peacefully as she was, proved to be too much for him. He felt a sudden, crushing weight constraining his chest, and before Billy could murmur the words to wake her, Tommy had stopped him and fled from the room. He hadn't used his powers yet, though he tried not to make it obvious, knowing that everyone’s eyes were constantly on him. Something was holding him back from running, restraining him and keeping him anchored down to the slowness of the real world. Part of the reason, he supposed, was the terrifying thought that his powers had been removed completely, and he didn't want to find out it was true. He knew they hadn't, however; his mind still ran far faster than normal, though he constantly felt as though everything were dulled down. Things didn't process normally, which only added to the fact that every pause in a conversation seemed to last lifetimes.

A few days had passed since the incident with Noh when he received an unexpected visitor. He was outside, sitting on a bench next to the fountain that everyone had played in the day before his capture, watching water cascade down the elegant structure. He hugged one knee to his chest, his chin resting on top of it as he stewed in his thoughts. He wasn't completely alone, of course; Noh-Varr watched over him constantly, though at the moment he was keeping his distance to give Tommy time to himself.

"'S a nice day out, isn't it?" Tommy worked around, greeted by none other than Mr. Lebeau himself, standing there with his staff in the the crook of his arm, casually resting against it. Tommy's eyes widened considerably, and he felt a strange tugging again in his chest. He was _alive_? But... he’d been sent off to be killed! For some reason, he had been absolutely sure that his captors had succeeded in killing him, though he’d never had any real confirmation of the fact.

"I... I-I thought you were dead!" Tommy exclaimed after a moment of stuttering. Remy snorted lightly, moving to sit on the bench beside him. His every movement seemed fluid, and he projected an absolute confidence that Tommy had rarely seen anyone posses. He found himself slightly jealous of the older man, but pulled his gaze away as he began taking.

"Me? Pfft, it's harder ta kill me than most might hope," he said, his tone light and good-natured. He was quiet for a long moment, his black-rimmed eyes fixing on the fountain. "...Look," he started, his voice a little quieter as he spoke up again. "I know it's probably de last t’ing you want ta talk about, but I wanted ta apologize for hurting you. Dat, an'...I can't imagine what I did made t’ings any easier on you. I'm sorry, s'all."

Tommy looked up at him, his brows during, then down to his arm, which was still bandaged under the loose, long-sleeved shirt he was wearing. He flexed his hand experimentally, and then looked back up to him. "It looks fine to me." He glanced away and back to the water fountain, sighing lightly. "I'm...actually really glad you did that." He paused, seeing Remy glance at him from the corner of his eye, and continued. "I mean...you were the only real person I saw that whole year. Er..." He paused, correcting himself. "I know that they were real people, but...I never saw their faces. Everyone wore those fucking masks," his voice turned bitter as he recounted what had happened. "I can't...tell you how it felt to see someone's _face_ , you know?"

Remy's lips had pressed together, and he had both hands wrapped tightly around his staff. "All I know is that what dey did you was _wrong_. I didn't see much, but I saw enough ta get an idea of what dey were tryin' ta do." He turned to look at Tommy, who now had a dark, almost dangerous expression. He reined himself in a bit, and continued. "They were tryin' ta get into yer head, and-"

"They weren't _trying_ to, they _did_ ," Tommy hissed. "I'm sure you saw enough to know that."

Remy paused, slightly surprised by the animosity of the prince, though he probably shouldn't have been surprised. He _had_ just been through a extremely traumatic experience, after all. "Hey, look, don't--"

"Don't _what_?" Tommy asked, a little sharply. From behind him, Remy saw Noh-Varr slink into view, receptive to the prince's distress. Remy sighed, holding up his hands defensively. "Look, kid, I t’ink I know where you're going wit’ dis, and ya can't blame yerself.” The look Remy received made it very clear to him that he had said the absolute _wrong_ thing, but he had a knack for getting himself into and out of difficult situations all the time, so he didn’t bother taking it back.

Tommy moved to his feet, pacing in his agitation. “No, you don’t, and yes, I can,” he replied, his fists clenching and unclenching as he walked. “No matter what you say, no matter how many excuses you make for me, anything I said or did in there is my own doing. I’m the only one who can take responsibility for it.” The words shocked Remy a bit; they were wise beyond the kid’s age, but they were also an excuse to hold himself accountable. What he said was very true, but at some point, survival instincts kicked in and took over, and you did whatever you had to in order to survive. “You’re just a kid,” Remy pressed, but he could already tell that he had lost. Noh-Varr was walking towards them now, almost eerily calm in the face of what was happening. Remy ignored him, keeping his attention fixed on Tommy, who only seemed to grow more anxious by the minute. “You didn’t ask for dat,” he continued, trying to reason for him. “No, you’re right; I _didn’t_!” Tommy snapped at him, smoothly ignoring Noh-Varr as he drew closer. “I didn’t even _want_ to be king! I _don’t_ want to be king! The only reason they thought I did is because of my fucking grandfather! It’s not _my_ fault I was born into this!” “Exactly,” Remy pushed, his voice calm and controlled, hoping the boy would at least stop blaming himself. “This was out of your control. There was not’ing you could do about it!” “ _No_ ,” Tommy pressed. “You don’t… You don’t _get_ it!” The young prince looked downright distressed at this point, and Noh-Varr moved closer, placing a comforting hand on Tommy’s shoulder and effectively stopping his pacing. Tommy glanced up to him, clearly upset, and then away again, though the Kree’s grip on his shoulder seemed enough to keep him tethered for the moment.,p > “Maybe I don’t,” Remy continued, wary of the Kree guard. He’d heard enough of what had happened around the castle to know that Noh was fiercely protective of his prince, especially after what had happened. Poor guy; he could only imagine how he felt when Tommy was taken. No amount of feeling bad for him would make him want to admit that he’d been the reason for Tommy returning with his arm in a sling. “But somet’ing tells me that you don’t, either.” Tommy growled in frustration and began pacing again, shrugging off Noh-Varr’s hand. “I haven’t even used my powers since coming back,” he admitted, sounding upset. Remy realized with a slight shock that he was telling the truth. He’d spent enough time around Pietro recently to know how the speedster should have been acting; when Pietro paced, he continuously gained speed until he was little more than a blur. “Well,” the thief started, holding out his hands palms-up with his fingers splayed. “By yer own logic, you’re the only one keeping yourself from that. Don’t let what dey did hold you back.”

Tommy froze, staring at him with a strange expression, conflict showing clearly in his gaze. Remy stared back at him evenly, the Kree watching him as well. He noticed Noh-Varr tense, and before he could blink, the two of them had disappeared from sight, leaving only a gust of air behind them. Remy stood there for a minute, his brows raised, and shrugged.

“Well,” he said as he picked up his staff and draped it over his shoulders, turning on his heel towards the castle. “ _Dat_ could have gone a _lot_ worse dan it did.” He started walking back towards the castle, whistling a tune.

\---

“ _Tommy_!” The sound of Noh-Varr’s voice was the only thing to bring him out of his trance. When Remy had pointed out the flaw in his logic to him, had told him that _he_ could decide to use his powers, something clicked in his brain. The fear that had been holding him back was no longer there, and it was as though Remy had just opened the floodgates that had been holding the speedster back from using his powers, and Tommy just _ran_.

“Stay here! I’ll be back!” He slowed just enough to give Noh-Varr the instruction, and then dug his heels in, pushing himself to go as fast as he possibly could.

He didn’t stop for a long time, didn’t slow or let anything get in his way. He ran out of the grounds, through the town, and beyond, leaving behind his home and the crushing weight of the royal family and their problems, his own included.

He’d never been outside of Genosha without an escort and a gaggle of guards following him; hell, even when he and Pietro would go on runs, they rarely entered the city. He didn’t care if his recklessness would get him in trouble, didn’t care if his grandfather tore down the whole castle in a fit of rage; for the first time in his life, he felt truly, undeniably _free_ , and he wasn’t about to let anyone take that from him.

He finally stopped when he reached a cliff overhanging the sea, skidding to a stop just before he reached the ledge. He stood there for a moment, looking out over the water and panting slightly; he was out of shape, but he could change that with time. He inhaled deeply, breathing in the salty air and feeling the mist from the crashing waves below him brush against his face.

He dropped to sit with his feet dangling off the ledge, closing his eyes and _relaxing_. He leaned back to lay down in the grass, smoothing his hands through the long strands and letting out a long sigh. For the first time in over a year, he had the chance to just _breathe_. He could understand now why his Aunt Lorna had chosen to leave the royal life behind; it was so… _nice_. It seemed like everyone in his immediate family had so many _problems_ (as well as an inability to deal with them), and he couldn’t even have his own acknowledged without sending them spiraling into a pit of despair and self-loathing. Getting away for a bit was definitely a good idea.

Eventually, he started running again, exploring for a while before returning home. It had been a few hours, but Noh-Varr, as expected, was exactly where Tommy had left him. Tommy knew without checking that he was worried, and that he had stayed out on his run far too long, but he resolved to make it up to him somehow. He gradually slowed down as he approached him, ignoring the unamused expression he wore. The Kree’s jaw was clenched and his arms were crossed, his entire body tense. Tommy slowed into a light jog before all but collapsing onto a bench just behind Noh, his limbs trembling somewhat and his legs feeling like lead.

Noh-Varr remained standing with his back to him, in the exact position he had been in when Tommy first approached. The speedster eyed him but didn’t say anything for a moment, still breathless from his run. “Hey,” he said, watching him closely. He frowned when he received no reaction; Noh-Varr had never ignored him before. “Noh,” he said, a little more insistently this time, but he still did not receive a reply. He forced himself to stand, ignoring the burning in his legs, and approached him, reaching out to touch his shoulder. “Noh? Look, I’m sorr-”

As soon as his fingers brushed the Kree’s shoulder, Noh turned sharply, his hands gripping Tommy’s upper arms tightly enough that it nearly hurt him. The speedster’s eyes widened and he gave a little gasp, a feeling of terror gripping him. His knees buckled, but Noh’s grip tightened, keeping him standing, though he shrank from his wrath as well as he could.

“You will _not_ leave me again, Tommy, do you understand?” his voice was stern, angry, and commanding. Tommy had never seen him behave in such a way before, especially not directed towards him, and the anger behind what he said brought back unpleasant memories that he didn’t want to dwell on. His heart was racing in his chest, so fast that he could barely hear what Noh was saying over his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. He felt his gaze wander, taking short, shallow gasps of air, but Noh-Varr shook him sharply, once, to bring his attention back to him. “ _Do you understand_?”

Tommy nodded numbly, all joy from his few hours of freedom seeping out of him faster than he had thought possible. Where minutes ago he had believed himself able to withstand any sort of reaction to his disappearance, now he little more than a trembling mess in Noh’s arms. Noh continued, and he continued to try and shrink down, though the restricting grip on his arms didn’t allow for much. “I _won’t_ lose you again,” Noh-Varr said; he rarely let much emotion show in his words or actions, let alone those that could be interpreted to show vulnerability, but his voice was shaking as he addressed the prince. “I will _die_ before I lose you again. Don’t _ever_ just run off like that again. Okay?”

Tommy nodded again, his hands visibly shaking from where they were pulled up in between the two of them. Noh seemed to realize what sort of effect he was having on the boy, and his grip loosened immediately. He eased him down towards the ground, all anger draining from him as Tommy immediately sank to his knees, his gaze unfocused as he tried not to have a full-fledged panic attack.

Noh-Varr sat across from him, leaning in to look at Tommy. “I’m sorry,” he said, earnestly. “I should have controlled myself better. I’m _sorry_ , Tommy, do you hear me?” He was nearly pleading with him by that point, and Tommy nodded again, weakly.

“I know,” he said, his voice barely a whisper and cracking as he spoke. “I’m sorry.” He couldn’t meet his gaze, couldn’t bring himself to face him. He _knew_ he was in the wrong, but he had been so _happy_ while he was gone; it was the best he’d felt in a very long time. He dared glancing at Noh, but the guilty expression he wore just made him feel worse, and he ducked his head again. “‘M sorry,” he repeated, trying to calm his breathing.

Noh-Varr tugged him into his arms, and he stiffly obliged, still unable to relax. “Don’t be,” he said, his voice much more gentle this time. “I...understand. But I’ve promised to keep you safe, Tommy - I’ve dedicated my entire life to it - and I won’t break that promise again. I want you to know that.”

Tommy finally melted into Noh’s arms, his own sliding around his broad torso and squeezing him as he sobbed, curling up in his lap.

Noh-Varr just held him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aw, feels?
> 
> The next chapter will have loads of drama, just a heads up.
> 
> I'm still writing Tommy to have a lot of self-esteem issues. I figure as a kid, growing up, he would have probably looked to Noh-Varr a lot (since he was a consistent male figure in his life that wasn't a relative) to see what he "should" look like, and he always sort of secretly admired how he looked so masculine. Now that Tommy's gone through what he has, he keeps searching for something in his appearance, but just isn't finding it. He's not sure what he's searching for yet, but maybe, eventually, he'll be content with his appearance and be confident in who he is. Merr, anyway, let me know if you enjoyed it! Every comment means the world to me. (I also appreciate kudos, bookmarks, and views all the same. You guys rule!)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy goes looking for answers to the questions he's been asking himself over the past year, and he isn't happy with what he finds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT OMG. It's seriously been the craziest past few months for me, I can't even tell you. I offer my deepest apologies. Regardless, this is a HUGE chapter; it's about 14 pages, but it's also got some really big reveals in it.
> 
> Before we continue, however, I do want to let you guys know about a few changes that I'm making to the previous storyline.
> 
> CHANGES:
> 
> Teddy: Teddy was raised on Earth. He was a sports star of sorts, and he and Billy were already dating when they discovered his true parentage. Teddy has since been working to create an alliance between both the Skrulls, the Kree, and the humans. so far he's doing a pretty darn good job of it.
> 
> Noh-Varr: He has only been Tommy's official guard for a few years; His crew was originally from this universe, and when they were attacked in 616, Noh was taken hostage by Midas, as per usual. However, at some point after the events at the Cube (and possibly after Vol 2 of the YA, I haven't decided yet), he left 616. Shortly after, he was assigned to protect Tommy, who still does not know Noh's backstory.
> 
> Wanda: The general public still believes that Wanda is a regular human, just like in the actual HoM comics. The family and very few outsiders know about this. Anyone unauthorized who has stumbled across her using her magic has had those memories erased. This is partially why they put her to sleep when she was losing it, since they were afraid of her causing a scene and the secret getting out.
> 
> Tommy: There's more that the rebels did to him than just the interrogation and what was mentioned, but it will be revealed via flashbacks etc. I just kept that as the central part of his torture and brainwashing so we could see how he reacted to the same thing as time progressed. So his dreams and flashbacks are actually going to be things that happened to him, or based on them. However, I neglected to mention his scars etc in the previous chapter (I believe it was in Ch 6? Where he came home and was looking at himself in the mirror). It's just another thing I'm going to change. 
> 
> I'll be making these edits slowly but surely, as I'll still be writing the story at the same time.
> 
> Also, a friendly reminder is that Elise is Tommy and Billy's old nanny. She hasn't been mentioned since the first chapter, which is a fault of my own, but she reappears here, and will be returning in future chapters.
> 
> ANYWHOO, ENJOY!

“Thomas, I can only imagine how hard this is for you, but we _need_ to know what the rebels did to you.”

“The _rebels_ ,” Tommy spat out, scoffing at the absurdity of the words. . “Is _that_ what we’re calling them? Rebels? I think that’s a little _light_ , don’t you?” His arms were crossed over his chest, and he was slouched down in a chair at the end of the private dining area that Erik saved for special occasions. Noh-Varr stood in the back of the room as he’d been instructed, his gaze respectfully lowered to give as much privacy as was possible “Thomas--”

“No, look, I told you to _stop_ calling me that! Is that so hard for you?” He shook his head, shooting his grandfather a withering glare. “Why do you _need_ to know, anyway? Huh? How is knowing what they did to me going to help you?”

His grandfather surveyed him calmly, his stony expression never faltering. His unwavering expression only served to agitate Tommy further.

“I need to know if they intend to go to war--”

“Oh _really_? Tommy asked, sarcasm dripping from every word. “They kidnap your precious crown prince for a year, don’t demand a ransom, and you’re not sure if they want a war? Because I’m pretty fucking sure they _want a war_.” He braced his hands against the table and shoved back his seat, causing it to screech against the marble flooring. He stood quickly, his body vibrating in distress. “What _I_ want to know, _Erik_ ,” he snarled, spitting out his grandfather’s name as though it were poison. “Is _why_ \-- _Why_ do they hate us so much? Why do they hate _me_?” He was shouting by that point, wavering in and out of focus.

.Erik’s expression remained impassive; if not for the tightness of his lips it would be easy to believe he was unaffected “I don’t know,” he muttered.

“That’s _bullshit_!” Tommy snapped, slamming his fists down on the table angrily. He jammed a finger in his grandfather’s direction. “You _know_ something. Maybe you don’t know the whole reason, but I _know_ you’re not telling me everything.”

“Tommy…” Erik finally addressed his grandson by his nickname, and that calmed him slightly He looked to his elder expectantly, pain and desperation clear in his eyes as he waited for an answer. “There are...many reasons why people might hate us,” he said quietly. “But as for why they picked you, specifically? I imagine it’s because of your youth. You’re the crown prince. However...I was hoping that you would have an idea for their motives. I don’t know what they did to you. I don’t know _why_ they did it to you, and I wish that I did.”

Tommy fell to his knees and pressed his forehead to the table. “I don’t _know_.” His voice was heavy with distress. “But whatever it is, I don’t think it was anything _I’ve_ done.”

Erik’s gaze had softened considerably as he watched the boy quietly for a moment, seeming to share in his pain. He wasn’t surprised that Tommy wasn’t the cause, but he was unsure of why he believed that, after being specifically picked out and hidden from the world for a year. “Why do you say that?” he asked gently. “They told me. I wasn’t being _punished_ , I was being _taught_ ,” Tommy’s tone was disgusted and dry at the same time. It sounded scripted. It sounded rehearsed. It gave him chills to think about any child so hurt, but his grandson…

“What did they teach you, Tommy?” Erik’s voice remained lowered, and his eyes flicked upwards, to Noh-Varr, who held a dark expression. There was no way for this conversation to end well, and they all knew it. “What did they _do_?”

“They…” Tommy paused, unsure if he was going to recount what had happened to him without panicking, but felt the words being pulled out of him, as if by some invisible string that was attached to the back of his vocal cords. “They would...take me into this _room_. It was always the same one. They asked me questions.” He felt numb as he spoke, his words broken and quiet,Erik had to strain to hear him properly.

The older man’s gaze never left his grandson, though Tommy’s head was still ducked, hidden from the shame. “...What kind of questions?”

“My name,” Tommy said, almost too quickly. “Billy’s name. Your name. Mom and Pietro’s names. Who my parents were. My favorite game. My favorite food. My least favorite food. Rules I’ve broken. They’d-They’d ask if I had a right to rule -- the-the answer is no, but--” he cut off, swallowing thickly and falling to lean against the leg of the table, shoving a hand in his hair. He was no longer able to keep his tone even, a waver in each word and a stutter in most. “They’d ask why. I-I didn’t know. When I--When I didn’t know an answer, they’d...hurt me,” the last two words were hardly more than a whisper.

Erik found himself at a loss of words, his brows knitted heavily together. He moved to place a comforting hand on the shoulder of the boy, but thought better of it. He was painfully aware of the fact that he wasn’t overly close with either of his grandsons, Tommy least of all, and that any sort of comfort given may have been mistaken as pity.

“All I know,” Tommy continued. “Is that the ‘line has been broken’, and I have no clue what the _hell_ that means, so if you _do_ , he said, raising his gaze to meet his grandfather’s finally, his hand gripping the table tighter. He was beginning to vibrate again, “I would _really_ like to know.” There was the sound of the legs of the table rattling against the floor, and then, suddenly, it exploded. The room went from quiet to full of movement in an instant. The chairs flew away from the table, skittering across the ground. Tommy jumped back from the table quickly, an arm thrown up to protect his face from the flying bits of wood chips. He landed on the ground, and in an instant Noh-Varr was standing protectively in front of him, facing the danger and reaching a hand back to help the young boy up. Erik staggered back, falling against the wall and cursing loudly as he was pelted with bits of debris.

The dust from the shattered wood settled, and Erik sighed, brushing himself off briskly. The door was shoved open by the two guards that stood watch outside of it. Erik waved them away dismissively. At their look of confusion, he gave a more earnest swipe of his hand, shooting them a dangerous look that had them backing out immediately. He heaved another sigh and turned his attention to Noh-Varr and Tommy, who was standing now, sheltered by Noh, peeking out with a bewildered look. “It would seem, Tommy, that you have inherited one of your uncle’s abilities. Lovely.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You are not hurt, correct? Good. We will give you proper training, do not worry. That aside...I am sorry for upsetting you so. You may leave now. Go get some rest and try to relax.”

Tommy faltered but nodded stiffly, stepping out from behind Noh-Varr and moving towards the door. His guard followed, hovering behind him as though he didn’t believe that there wasn’t danger at that moment.

After they left, Erik approached the window of the room and stared out of it, letting out a long breath. He glanced at the nearby button to call for service, sliding his hand over after a moment to press it. The crisp, professional voice of the Head of Staff answered. He asked for Pietro to be sent to him, and returned to his previous position, staring out of the window at the large expanse of land laid out in front of him.

He was made aware of Pietro’s arrival by the door opening and sharp footsteps, which stopped abruptly. “...What the hell happened in here?”

Erik didn’t turn to look at his son, just enough to see the edge of the mess in the room. “ _Thomas_ happened.” He shifted back towards the window again, and Pietro said nothing, staring at the wreckage, his gaze darkening. Erik continued, slowly walking to his own chair. It was made of thick, strong wood, and adorned with intricate designs made out of melted silver. He barely raised his hand, bringing the chair up silently and easing it into an upright position. He sat, folding his hands calmly in his lap, ignoring the look his son was giving him.

“What do you want?” Pietro asked dryly, eyeing his father with distrust.

Erik’s gaze snapped up to meet the fierce gaze of his son, pressing his lips tightly together before speaking, as if Pietro had never spoken at all.. “I just spoke with him about what happened. It would seem that the primary goal of his imprisonment was to beat into him _why_ he does not deserve to rule.” Pietro’s gaze darkened further, his fists clenched at his sides involuntarily. Erik continued. “The only thing that he knows is the ‘line has been broken’. _That’s_ why the rebels took him.” Erik laced his fingers together in his lap, leaning forward to glower at PIetro. “I don’t suppose _you_ know what that means, do you? Because  he certainly does not.”

The color had completely drained from Pietro’s face, his eyes wide and horrified. “The...line…”

“Has been broken, yes,” Erik finished for him, his gaze as cold as it could possibly be.

Pietro swiped his hand through the air, dismissively. “No, there’s _no_ way they could know--”

Erik cut him off. “But they _do_ , Pietro.” Erik moved to approach Pietro, who took a step back from his father’s burning gaze. “This has officially gotten out of hand. _Your_ burden has been handed down to a child. _Your_ mistake. _You_ must take responsibility for your own actions. If you do not, _I_ will do so _for_ you. Now _get. Out._ ”

Pietro stared at his father in stunned silence for a long moment. Eventually he retreated. He wandered the palace numbly, letting his feet carry him where they pleased. He found himself at the door to Wanda’s bedroom, staring at the handle before reaching to open it. He eased it shut behind him, and grabbed a chair from a small table in the room to pull up beside her bed. He watched her, still in her peaceful, magic-induced slumber He let his face fall into his hands. He dragged them down until they were pressed over his mouth and looked at her once more.

“Wanda…” he mumbled, dropping his hands and reaching to touch one of hers gently. “...What have we done?”

\---

“Tommy.”

“Don’t.” The young prince was slumped over, seated on a bench in the gardens with his face in his hands.

“Tommy, I--”

“Look, can you just leave me alone for a little while? Please? I just need some time to myself.” He pretended he didn’t notice the wounded look he received when he snapped at Noh-Varr. He sighed, and shifted so that his back was to him. “No one’s coming for me, alright?” he said, his voice gruff and bitter. “Trust me on this one. If they weren’t done with me, I would know.”

The thought of what he had just said sickened him. In a different situation, he could have sounded like he was close with them, like he _knew_ them and how they acted. He doubled over further, wrapping his arms over his head and fisting his hands in his hair. He didn’t have any reason to be rude to Noh-Varr; if he were actually cruel enough to make the Kree leave him be and stop putting forth the effort to help him, he would go crazy. It was almost uncontrollable, the way he was lashing out on those closest to him. He listened to Noh-Varr’s steps retreat, and tugged at his hair with a low groan, feeling even worse.

He was losing it. He couldn’t keep it together. He wanted so desperately to have things return to normal, but they couldn’t. He hated everything. He hated the palace and the plush pillows and his bed that was too gooddamned big for him. He hated the servants, waiting on him hand and foot and pretending to care about what had happened, just so they could turn around and gossip about the tiniest thing that they heard to the rest of the staff. He hated his grandfather; he wouldn’t have even been in this mess if it weren’t for him, wouldn’t have been next in line for the throne. He hated the rebels, for deeming him important enough to take. He hated Teacher, for...everything. He was robbed of his own self. He was the body of two conflicting personalities; the old him, and this new, hateful, angry him. He was a pawn between two opposing powers, each fighting to control the battlefield.

The sad thing was, he didn’t even know who he wanted to be anymore.

“This is sort of your go-to spot when you’re upset, isn’t it?” He was startled out of his brooding by a surprisingly gentle voice, his head snapping up and his gaze landing on none other than Mr. Lebeau himself, once more leaning casually against his staff.

“Hey,” he mumbled back, ducking his head sheepishly and rubbing at his eyes to ensure that he hadn’t shed any tears. He drew his knees up to his chest, hugging them and looking away.

“What’s wrong, _cher_?” The man sounded oddly affectionate, to the point that it slightly startled him. Remy slid onto the bench beside Tommy, resting the bo staff between his knees and wrapping an arm around it casually as he watched the prince.

“Everything,” he said, without even thinking about it, immediately wincing at the slip. He hadn’t meant to admit it, the word just escaped before he could stop it. He hugged his knees a little closer to his chest, and rested his chin on top of them, glancing to Remy and then down again, refusing to say anything else.

Remy sat there quietly for a moment, humming thoughtfully. “Do ya maybe want ta talk about it?”

Tommy didn’t say anything for a long moment, thinking on the question. His immediate reaction was to say no, but he realized after a moment that he actually did. “...They’re hiding something from me,” he finally said, lowly. “They know why I was taken, and they won’t tell me.”

“True.” Remy glanced at him, his ever-burning eyes far from intimidating in that moment, and Tommy’s eyebrows shot up. He shifted, lifting his chin and looking at the Cajun more fully. Remy watched his reaction, and quirked a brow. “What?”

“I just… You agree with me?” he asked. He had honestly expected to be told that he was imagining things. It seemed as though all of the adults in the palace were dead set on convincing him that they knew nothing, whereas Remy was actually acknowledging Tommy’s suspicions.

“Well, yeah. No sense in denying the obvious trut’, is there?” He shifted so that he was facing Tommy fully, his gaze fixed on him. “What you should really think about is the _reason_ for dat. Do you really want ta know?”

“I have a right to,” Tommy shot back immediately, causing Remy to raise his hands defensively.

“Yes, but that still doesn’t answer the question.”

Tommy paused, thinking for a long moment. Did Remy really know? Could he really be one word away from finding the answer to the question he’d been asking for the past year?

“Well…” He paused, and then gave a sharp nod. “Yeah. It’s better than not knowing.”

“Good.” Remy clapped his hands together and leaned back. “‘Cos I’m goin’ ta help you find out.”

Tommy blinked at him. He didn’t actually know yet? “Wait...you...don’t know what it is?” he asked, disappointment washing over him. 

Remy scoffed. “Not quite. But I intend ta find out. I haven’t been sittin’ around this damned palace waitin’ for you to get out jus’ so they could keep secrets.”

Tommy felt a huge weight lift off his his chest, followed by a slight warmth. He decided that he really, _really_ liked Remy. He felt like there was finally someone on his team, someone who didn’t treat him like walking glass, and who didn’t want to hide things from him. Tommy felt as though Remy was the one person who might actually understand what he had gone through, at least a little. The man was a gift from the gods; he’d stood up to the rebels and defended Tommy, and though he’d nearly been killed for it, he’d waited around in the palace for Tommy to get back so he could help him. Hell, Tommy knew firsthand how painful the palace life could be.

Tommy gave a little smile, and Remy reached out to tap him on the shoulder, giving a mischievous smirk. “...We need a plan.”

\---

Tommy kept having nightmares. They sometimes escalated into night terrors, shaking him to his very core with how real they felt. There were many nights where Noh-Varr woke him from his sleep because of his screaming and thrashing about, wrapping around the prince and trying to calm his trembling body and to soothe his harried breathing.

It was one of those nights. Noh-Varrr woke Tommy from a particularly bad one, and the prince was sitting in his bed with his head in his hands, with Noh rubbing slow circles against his back. He was drenched in sweat and trembling from the ghost of fear he still felt from his night terror, giving a shudder as memories of the dream flashed through his mind.

_A dark room with a single, low-wattage bulb hanging from the ceiling. Tommy was tied down to a chair, unable to move, and there was the silhouette of a stranger just outside his line of sight. “Why did you do this to me?” Tommy screamed. “Why did I deserve this?”_ “Because you are ignorant,” comes a voice from the silhouette. He holds up a rod, the end glowing red. “You remain in the shadows, and you must be taught.” Tommy’s legs trembled in anticipation.

Tommy shook away the dream, shuddering at the memories. His hand ghosted over the scars that littered his legs underneath his sleepwear, and they seemed to burn at the touch. Noh-Varr wrapped around him, hugging him to his chest, and Tommy sagged with guilt. He hadn’t been the nicest to Noh-Varr recently. He was constantly shooting him down, ignoring his warnings, and acting like his presence was little more than a burden, when in reality the opposite was true. He depended on him. He still didn’t feel entirely _protected_ around him, and occasionally the dreams he had were of Noh laughing at him while he was being tortured, but Tommy’s own problems were no reason to mistreat his best friend. Noh-Varr had never done anything wrong to him, and probably never would.

Despite how badly he’d been treating him, though, Noh-Varr had still stuck around. He’d never once complained, and aside from telling him not to leave without him again, he’d been very accommodating to whatever Tommy asked of him. Tommy focused on calming his breathing, glancing over at the Kree. “...Come take a shower with me,” he said, still slightly breathless. It wasn’t until he’d already spoken that he realized what he’d said, and his breath caught as Noh’s gaze met his own. There was a painful silence that seemed to last a year, but in reality was only a few seconds, and Noh answered evenly.

“Okay.”

Tommy let out a breath of air at the reply he received, though his heart rate picked up considerably. He swung his legs off the side of the bed and scooted off, moving towards the bathroom.

He stripped off his clothes numbly, cursing his current lack of dexterity. He’d been naked in front of Noh countless times; hell, the Kree used to _dress_ him before he’d been taken. Somehow, though, this felt...different. He chided himself for feeling that way; he’d been the one to suggest they shower together, after all. He refused to look at Noh as he kicked off his pajama pants and slipped out of his boxers, turning to move to the shower quickly.

He leaned in to turn the water on, waiting until it was just shy of scalding hot, and then stepped in, leaving the frosted door halfway open behind him. He faced the wall, feeling the Kree get in when he was shielded from the water, though he kept his back to him for a moment.

“Tommy.” The speedster turned to look at him, but Noh-Varr immediately pressed a hand to his chest, pushing him so that his back was against the wall of the shower.

His heart skipped a beat as he looked up at Noh, his heart hammering away in his chest. The pressure of Noh’s hand on his skin made warmth pool in his belly, hotter than the water that threatened to burn under extended exposure. “Y-yeah?” he asked, inwardly cursing himself for stuttering.

“Your heart rate is elevated.” His voice was lowered, soft almost. Tommy’s heart skipped a beat and he licked his lips, ignoring the growing warmth in his abdomen. 

“So?” It was the comeback of the century. Tommy felt too numb to come up with anything better.

“Well, I--” He cut off, suddenly glancing downward and then back up to Tommy, a brow raised. Tommy followed suit, glancing down to see his manhood pressing against the other’s thigh. He felt a sharp pang as he realized what was happening, and then looked up at Noh-Varr, his mind going into overdrive. Of all times to spring one, it had to happen _now __? Well...of course it would, Noh was literally genetically modified perfection and with the way he had him pressed against the wall right now..._

“...You gonna do something about that?” he asked, quirking a brow. His own words took him by surprise. He sounded about a million times more confident than he felt, spurred on by a rush of adrenaline he was feeling. Noh-Varr shifted forward, pressing his leg in between Tommy’s, and the speedster sucked in a sharp breath of air, holding it in. He was staring at him, at Noh’s lips that were barely curled into a smirk, and his smouldering gaze. Noh-Varr suddenly stopped his movements, though, and Tommy’s brows furrowed heavily inward.

“Tommy...I can’t.”

“Why not?” he demanded, wanting to sound angrier, but unable to summon much force behind his words, his newfound confidence rapidly declining.

Noh-Varr paused. “I guess I should say that I _shouldn’t_.” He withdrew his leg a bit, pulling away slightly from the boy, and Tommy had to fight back a whine of protest.

“You _want_ to, though,” he pushed, his false bravado beginning to waver. It crumbled further when Noh-Varr fixed him with an even gaze. “...Don’t you?” The words felt tiny and weak, and Tommy continued to curse himself for even suggesting this in the first place. What was _wrong_ with him?

“Yes, but that--”

“Well, so do I.” Tommy wanted to scream at himself. Why was he still pushing for this? Noh-Varr obviously wasn’t going to do anything. He wasn’t even sure _why_ he had even asked him to shower with him. He hadn’t been intending this -- or if he had, he hadn’t known it. It was all _very_ confusing, and the fact that he kept speaking before he could sort out his thoughts was only making things worse.

“That does not mean that we should,” Noh-Varr pointed out, fixing Tommy with a slight smirk.

“Why _not_ , though? Give me one good reason.” ‘ _Give me a hundred,_ ’ Tommy silently begged. ‘ _Tell me I’m acting crazy over here._ ’ Noh-Varr sighed. “Well, for one, you are my charge. I’m supposed to care for you. It would be...improper.” Tommy scoffed, lowering his gaze briefly “Secondly…” Tommy glanced back up at him as Noh-Varr spoke, feeling slightly uneasy. “I feel like...it would be taking advantage of you, Tommy.”

The speedster stiffened immediately. “How so?” he asked, his voice nearly dangerous. He’d made a rapid switch from trying to convince Noh to do… _something_ with him, to being consumed with rage. He had zero control over his own emotions at that point.

“After what you went through, it’s only natural that you would want--”

“You know what? Forget it,” Tommy snapped. “For just one goddamned minute, I would like to _not_ think about what I went through. Is that so much to ask?” The anger had taken hold of him with an iron grip that he couldn’t break if he tried. He was absolutely seething with a burning rage that overpowered whatever pleasant warmth he’d been feeling earlier.

He shoved Noh away and moved to leave the shower, only for the other to grab him and tug him back. “What?” he snapped. “Get _off_ of m-mmm!” He was cut off as Noh-Varr pressed their lips together, causing his voice to raise in a sound of surprise.

Just as quickly as it had arrived, the anger left him, and he was once more flooded with the strange warmth in the pit of his belly. Noh-Varr pressed him back into the wall of the shower again, only pulling away to haul Tommy up so that the speedster could wrap his legs around his waist, his arms around his neck. Tommy ground his hips down almost instinctually, and Noh-Varr gave a strangled noise that was somewhere between a growl and a moan before pushing the speedster more firmly against the wall.

Tommy was panting by the time they pulled apart from their kiss, but rather than give him time to recover, Noh-Varr kissed down his jaw and neck until he reached his collarbone, nipping there. Tommy hissed, his hips jerking forward in response. Noh gave him a vicious, hungry grin that sent shivers down the prince’s spine and bit down a little harder. Tommy groaned, leaning his head back and arching into the alien.

He wasn’t sure what had happened to him. He hadn’t intended to seduce him, if that was what he had done. Noh-Varr seemed more than eager to comply, and he wasn’t exactly complaining himself, he just...hadn’t expected this to happen. His body seemed to be moving on its own, without waiting for his permission. His hips continued to grind down into Noh’s with increasing fervor, his back was arching off the wall, and small whines and moans continuously slipped through his lips.

Who was he? He certainly didn’t _feel_ like himself. Then again, he wasn’t entirely sure how that felt anymore. He was losing his sense of himself. 

He snapped out of his thoughts when Noh-Varr delivered a particularly harsh bite to his collarbone, turning his vision white as his body vibrated in response. He faintly heard Noh’s gasp at the stimulation, giving a moan and jerking his hips forward. Tommy’s vibrating slowed, and he calmed his trembling limbs, his sight returning and leaving him feeling tired and lightweight. He slumped forward against Noh, who in turn leaned them against the wall for a brief moment.

“Alright…” the Kree panted. “Let’s get cleaned off.” He eased Tommy to his feet, helping the prince catch his balance on his still shaking legs, and pulled away, turning into the water. Tommy noticed scratches along the Kree’s back, bright-red and obviously fresh, and realized with a start that they must have come from him. He looked away from Noh and down at himself, realizing with another, more muted sense of shock when he realized that either Noh or himself had spilled on his stomach. He swallowed thickly and looked back up to see Noh, now turned to look at him with his brows furrowed.

“...Are you alright?” he asked, moving a little closer.

“M’fine,” he replied too quickly, knowing that Noh was able to catch how rushed he sounded. “I’m just...getting my senses back,” he said, offering a weak smile. Noh watched him for a moment and then returned it, though Tommy could tell that he wasn’t entirely convinced. He didn’t want to burden Noh any further than he already was by adding his mixed feelings in with everything else. Somehow, he felt as though he had violated himself. This other version of him, the one that was so eager to moan and whine in pleasure, yet also ready to snap at anyone who came too close or said the wrong thing, was taking over without permission. He couldn’t tell yet if that was a good or a bad thing.

He wiped himself off numbly and then stepped forward, letting his head fall forward to rest on Noh-Varr’s chest, his arms encircling his torso. He felt Noh’s strong arms wrap around him tenderly, pressing him closer, and even if the Kree couldn’t keep him safe from the dangers of the world, couldn’t protect him from his own troubled thoughts and emotions, he definitely helped lighten the load. 

\---

.Tommy felt better when he woke up the next morning. He had an actual purpose, for one; he and Remy were going to try and find out what was going on. They didn’t exactly have a complex plan, but having a goal set in front of him that he could work towards was surprisingly relieving. The fact that he woke up with Noh practically laying on top of him was a good thing as well. The larger man was draped over him, his chest pressed to Tommy’s back and with a beefy arm wrapped around his chest. 

He stretched, giving a small smile when Noh wrapped himself more securely around him. After a moment more of laying there, they detangled themselves and began to climb out of bed. Noh turned away and slid out from under the sheets, rolling his shoulders, which were still marred from the night before. Tommy caught the sight from the corner of his eye and smirked, feeling a strange sense of confidence and pride from the display. He rolled out of bed without comment and headed to the bathroom, raking a hand through his hair and raising a fist to stifle a large yawn.

He stumbled to the toilet to relieve himself, scratching the back of his head as he rocked back on his heels. He finished up and walked out, glancing in the mirror on his way out to make sure his hair didn’t look too horribly crazy. He froze when he noticed multiple dark bruises on his chest and collarbones, his jaw dropping.

“Aw, hell!” he cursed, leaning forward to inspect the marks. Noh-Varr walked in behind him, smirking at him in the mirror.

“What? You seemed to enjoy receiving them.” Tommy felt a flash of that strange, detached feeling he’d had the night before, but it quickly disappeared, replaced by a blush crawling up his neck.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, moving to his closet to grab some clothes. He was glad that Noh-Varr at least had the decency to keep the marks restricted to areas that were easily hidden.

He tugged on a loose, dark green turtleneck sweater, and tugged on some pants and boots. He headed out of the bedroom, Noh-Varr following him a moment later, walking behind him dutifully and looking as pristine as ever. Tommy cursed him silently; the damned alien could look perfect in moments.

“Hey, I’m gonna go find Pietro,” Tommy said, turning and giving a wave. Noh-Varr paused, but gave a reluctant nod, and Tommy sped off, glad that he didn’t meet any resistance for once. He made a quick stop by the kitchens first, grabbing a tart and munching on it discreetly as he tried to figure out how, exactly, he was going to pry information out of his uncle. Remy had told him that Pietro had been acting very strangely recently, and had suggested that Tommy try and speak with him. Pietro wasn’t exactly the most trusting person alive, and a random person trying to pry into his personal business wouldn’t go over well.

“Poor thing, going through all that. He’s just a kid!” Tommy heard some of the workers head into the kitchen and ducked out of sight, unwilling to face Elise’s wrath if she caught him eating sweets for breakfast. The conversation was obviously centered around him, however, so he stayed close. As annoying as it may have been to listen to everyone talk about him, he was on the hunt for clues, so he was going to stay put. “Mm, I know. He didn’t deserve it.” He was slightly surprised to hear Elise’s voice, when his thoughts had just been on her..

“What do you think is going to happen?” the other girl asked. “You know, with the palace and all?”

“I’m not sure. I doubt they’re going to push having him rule any time soon after what happened. He’s been very agitated since arriving,” Elise said with a thoughtful hum. Tommy was surprised she’d noticed; then again, she had a tendency to know everything that happened inside the castle, which could prove to be helpful in his current endeavor. “If I were them, honestly, I would let one of his parents rule. Pietro may no longer be married, but Wanda did not divorce her husband. She became pregnant with her boys before he died. There is no dishonor in that.”

“But--”

“She is not a mutant, I understand.” Elise was one of the few people outside of the family to know that Wanda did, in fact, have powers, but she was very good at keeping the secret. Tommy shifted uncomfortably; it was weird to hear other people talking about his family, and determining if they believed they had a right to rule or not. It made him feel a little sick to his stomach, but he ignored it. “But she is of royal blood. I would personally suggest Princess Lorna first, but she does not seem to wish to have any part in the royal life.

The two women passed by the island he was hiding behind, thankfully without noticing him. “Well, isn’t Wanda also a little…?” Tommy sighed quietly, pressing his lips together. The fact that his mother was unstable, unfortunately, was _not_ a well-kept secret within the palace.

“Yes, but whatever happened to the line of rule? It’s supposed to be…” Elise’s voice trailed off as they turned the corner, and Tommy paused before moving, his brows furrowed. He stood slowly, chewing thoughtfully on the tart he’d been eating. The line of rule… Could that possibly be what they were looking for? Was that the answer to his question? What did it _mean_ , though? _The line of rule has been broken…_ He shook his head in annoyance and tossed the rest of his tart into the nearby trashcan. He left the kitchen, intending to track down Remy to tell him what he’d found. He hadn’t had to go to Pietro, after all.

He found the Cajun in a practice area on the grounds, throwing out his cards with practiced ease and absolutely destroying the dummies set up in front of him. Tommy watched for a moment, slightly impressed with his abilities. Remy took a step away as the last dummy exploded, leaving nothing more than smouldering remains behind. He glanced over, smiling when he saw Tommy, and waved him over. “You talk to ‘im yet?”

Tommy walked over a little slowly, chewing on his bottom lip as he thought. “No, but...I overheard something some of the workers were saying.”

“Oh?” Remy stepped in closer to Tommy, leaning in a little bit to hear him better.

“They brought up… They said something about the ‘line of rule’.” Tommy looked up at Remy. “Do you think… I mean, if that’s what the rebels meant by ‘the line is broken’, what the hell does that even--”

“Tommy!” Pietro was approaching the pair, his gaze hard. They looked back at him, and Remy leaned down slightly to mumble a quiet response to Tommy.

“Maybe you should ask him.” He straightened, giving a good-natured bow of his head. “Prince Pietro.”

Pietro met his smirk with a suspicious glare, but it softened when he turned to Tommy. “Are you free? I’d like...to talk to you for a moment.”

_Crap_. He actually _didn’t_ want to talk to his uncle now, despite what Remy suggested. Couldn’t he at least have five minutes to think something over?. He sighed lightly and then gave a tiny smile. “What’s up?”

“Let’s...go for a run.” Pietro was acting weird, strangely stiff as he spoke, causing Remy to shoot Tommy a look.

“Huh? Oh, sure,” Tommy mumbled in response, trying not to sound too distracted or disappointed. What he _really_ wanted to do was go sit alone for a little while, but the longer Pietro was around him the more uncomfortable he seemed. He heaved a sigh. He really didn’t feel like carrying anyone else’s burdens at the moment, but if it helped, he may as well..

Pietro gave him a quick nod of acknowledgement, his movements jerky, and then took off. Tommy stared at him oddly but followed him regardless, watching him closely.

He thought on what he’d heard as he ran. The line had been broken… The line of rule had been broken… What did it _mean_? How was it broken? Obviously, his family knew what was up, but Pietro was the only one who seemed actively bothered by it. Come to think of it...he’d been acting oddly since Tommy had arrived. When he’d visited him the first time, he’d acted almost guilty.

He began to slow down, and Pietro noticed, slowing to a stop shortly ahead of Tommy. The young prince stood there for a minute, his brows knitted together as he worked out his thoughts.

“The line has been broken,” he said quietly, raising his eyes to meet Pietro’s. His uncle looked downright terrified, and Tommy’s stomach lurched unpleasantly. “What does it mean?”

“Tommy…”

“ _No_. Don’t avoid the question, I know you know the answer!” His voice was raising already, his clenched fists shaking. “Everyone keeps treating me like I’m stupid, like I don’t know that you guys are hiding this from me. _What._ Does it. _Mean?_ ” He felt an uncomfortable panic building in him, putting him under so much pressure that he felt he might explode. He was beginning to put ideas together, and they were all horrible.

“I… Tommy, please calm down--”

“Oh, you want me to _calm down_?” He shouted the question, his body trembling. He felt a terrible sense of dread and panic building in the pit of his stomach. “How could the line of rule be broken, Pietro?” His uncle appeared speechless. Tommy stared at him incredulously, holding out his hands when he didn’t receive a reply. “Well?”

“Simon isn’t your father.” When the answer finally came, Pietro’s voice was broken.

Tommy stared at him with wide eyes, feeling the blood drain from his face. The words struck something in him, his brain simultaneously trying to piece together the information it had been given and block out the results. He knew in his gut that the answer was _not_ something he wanted to hear. 

“What… What are you saying?” His voice sounded strangled, the words barely making it out. He felt like his air supply was being squeezed out of him, and his tether to sanity, weak though it may have been, was snapping at that very moment.

“Tommy…” Pietro drew closer, sounding distressed, and Tommy backpedaled a few steps, holding up an arm as if to defend himself, his head spinning. “Tommy, _breathe_.”

“Are you…? Are you…?” He couldn’t get the rest of the sentence out, couldn’t force himself to say the words. “Is that why we… Is that why I look like…” he couldn’t even finish. Every time he tried to come out with the question, he choked on it. He shook his head, swallowing down a lump in his throat. “No… No, no, no… _No_! Fucking _answer_ me!” The words ripped out of him suddenly. He didn’t want to ask again. He needed to know. The horrible thoughts rolling around in his head needed to be shot down. He needed to hear that he was wrong, that there was no way he could be right. He was desperate for Pietro to soothe his fears. “ _Are_ you?”

Pietro didn’t speak. He just nodded his head slowly.

Something snapped in Tommy. His vision blurred, and then returned, though it was obscured by red. His whole body began vibrating rapidly, and he gasped for a breath of air. He was in shock, but he was also being rapidly consumed by a terrible, deafening _rage_. Pietro watched him sullenly, standing in front of a statue of the family. Tommy fixated on it for a moment, panting. There was Erik, of course, standing tall and proud, with his children and grandchildren arranged around him. Pietro and Wanda were side by side, with Billy and Tommy just in front of them.

He let out an angry cry that was drowned out by the sound of the statue of Pietro exploding, causing damage to the rest of it and slamming Pietro forward. Debris rained down, bits of stone hitting Tommy, but he barely noticed, launching forward, catching the front of Pietro’s shirt and slamming him back against the remains of the statue, his back slamming into the now-chipped away legs of his father.

“ _You_!” he screamed, tears running down his face, his fists clenched tightly in the front of Pietro’s shirt. “It’s _your_ fault! How _could_ you? Mom is… _You_ know better than _anyone_ her condition! And you took advantage of it” He choked off, feeling the world spin.

“Tommy, it’s not--”

“It’s not _what_?” he snarled, slamming a dazed Pietro into the statue again. His own head spun again, and he ducked it, using his hold on Pietro as a means to balance himself and stay upright as he was to keep him in place. He was so wrapped up in what was happening that he didn’t notice Remy running up on the scene, brought around by the sound of the explosion. The rogue slid to a stop when he saw the two of them, though, staring in bewilderment.

“It’s not what it seems like--”

“She’s your _sister_!” He began vibrating again, slamming Pietro once more. “It’s _your_ fault I was taken! Because _you_ are nothing more than a _sick_ fucking _bastard_! I didn’t do _anything_ to deserve that! I was taken because of _you_!” 

“I know.” Pietro’s eyes were watering as well, and he looked at Tommy with a broken expression. “I’m sorry--”

“Bullshit!” Tommy screamed, pulling his hands away so that he could slam his fist into Pietro’s face.

“ _Tommy_! Remy lept forward, grabbing Tommy’s arms as the boy went to pounce on Pietro and yanking him back and away, struggling to keep him back.

“I’ll fucking kill you!” Tommy jerked against Remy, struggling to get away, his eyes locked on Pietro. He started vibrating again, forcing Remy to let go of him, and the stone in the statue began to crack dangerously.

“Tommy! Calm down!” Remy shouted, but the boy was already upon Pietro, his hands wrapped around his throat. Remy lept forward, grabbing Tommy’s shoulders and trying to tug him off, surprised by the strength of the young man. He was bewildered by the intense emotions that the young prince was displaying, tears dripping down onto the face of Pietro, who didn’t seem to be putting much effort into keeping Tommy off of him.

“Tommy.” Remy looked up to see Noh-Varr skidding to a stop beside them, stepping forward. Noh-Varr leaned down next to Tommy swiftly, gripping his forearms tightly and beginning to pry them apart from each other and away from Pietro, his eyes seeking those of the young prince. “ _Tommy_ ,” he repeated, sharply, and the boy’s eyes snapped up to meet his briefly before returning to Pietro. “ _Let him go._ ” Tommy’s grip seemed to only tighten at the command, but Noh was stronger than him, slowly prying his hands off of Pietro’s neck. Scratch marks were left in the place of Tommy’s fingers in the boy’s refusal to simply let go. “Tommy, _stop_!”

Tommy winced at the grip on his arms, and at the sharp words jerked away, falling back to sit against the ground. He was vibrating nearly uncontrollably, overcome with emotion. Noh-Varr immediately approached him again, but Tommy fended him off weakly with a hand. The statue of the family suddenly shattered, the explosion causing the ground to shake, and everyone dove for cover, Noh nearly tackling Tommy to cover his body and Remy shoving Pietro back down to the ground and attempting to shield him as well, crouching over the head of the white-haired man.

The dust settled, and Remy eased back up, looking over at Noh-Varr, who was hugging the sobbing teen, trying to calm him. He looked at the pair, and then to Pietro incredulously. “...I don’t even want ta know what you did,” he said, his tone dark. He stood up, glancing up as Lorna flew into the area, landing a few feet away from the pair on the ground, Luna at her heels.

“What--” Lorna cut off, staring in bewilderment at the scene. She looked to Remy, who just gave a bit of a hopeless shrug. Luna walked forward, not to Pietro, but to Tommy. Remy raised his brows, taking a step towards her and reaching a hand out for her shoulder to halt her, and she paused for a moment.

“He’s in so much pain…” she said quietly, and she pushed Remy’s hand away, walking up to Noh and Tommy and moving to sit on her knees, scooting closer. She watched Tommy sadly, his arms wrapped around Noh’s neck and his face buried there, sobs wracking his body. Noh looked at her, his lips pressed together, and he nodded gently.

Tommy’s sobs eased suddenly, and he quieted, though he didn’t stop hugging Noh-Varr. The Kree lifted him up, giving a curt nod to those assembled around him and began to carry Tommy inside so they could go to his room.

Luna stood up and watched them go almost sadly, crossing her arms and then walking towards her father, who had pushed himself to his feet by this point, but looked as if he didn’t want anyone to see him there. He adjusted his collar to hide the scratch marks he now bore, and cleared his throat quietly. At the sight of his daughter, however, his expression changed to a mixture of surprise, confusion, and sadness. “...Luna…? When did you get here?”

“Not long ago. Mom dropped me off and Aunt Lorna picked me up.” She reached for her father’s hand. “Why is Tommy so sad?”

Pietro looked to the broken statue of his family, now in shambles save for Wanda and Billy, and gave a sad sigh. “He’s just been through a lot of terrible things recently.”

“Why are _you_ so sad?” Pietro looked back down to his daughter and raised a hand to pet down her hair, before glancing to Remy and Lorna, both of whom were giving him inquisitive looks.

“Because it’s my fault. Come on, Luna, let’s go inside.” The young girl pursed her lips together but nodded, following after her father.

Lorna narrowed her eyes at Pietro as he left, then rounded on Remy. “What the hell happened here?”

Remy shrugged helplessly. “I don’t...rightfully know, _cherie_. I showed up shortly before you did.” He raised a hand to scratch the back of his head, pulling it away and checking for a sign of blood from any wound incurred when the statue exploded. Seeing none, he dropped it and crossed his arms, fixing Lorna with a look. “I can’t be sure, but I feel that your family’s little secret might be out.”

Lorna sighed irritably. “ _What_ secret, Remy? Are you _still_ on about that?”

“Oui. And you don’t have ta tell me that I’m wrong, because I know that I’m not. Tommy knew it, too, and I think he found it out the hard way.” Lorna glared at him, but he could see the unease in her stance and expression. She gave up trying to put up a front after a moment and bit her lip, looking away. “Maybe ‘s not my place to say, but I’d try ‘n save his brother from the same fate if I were you. This one didn’t end up so well.”

Lorna shot him another glare. “You don’t know anything about what’s going on, Remy.”

“Yeah, but I know enough to know that this obviously isn’t something you should hide. Does _that_ look like you should have let him figure it out on his own?” He jammed his finger in the direction of the crumpled statues. “Not only that, but he seems to think that whatever secret that was is why he was kidnapped, and I’m starting ta think he was right.”

Lorna hugged herself, looking guilty. “...What makes you care so much all of a sudden?” she asked, quietly.

“Maybe the fact that I saw a bit of what they were doin’ ta him. Or the fact that you’re a friend of mine, Lorna. Either way, I’ve made friends with the kid, and I’m not about to back out of this just ‘coz things got a little nasty.”

Lorna snorted lightly, looking off towards the pile of rubble. “...You’re in for a _real_ bumpy ride, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
> 
> And so the truth comes out. The House of Magnus is really turning into the House of Monsters, isn't it? Nothing but secrets and manipulations, mwah ha ha...
> 
> Okay, again I apologize for how long it took me to post this (and also how lame I am in my chapter notes, ugh). I didn't actually have a beta for this one, because it's so super long, but from now on, if I don't have a beta, I'm just going to give myself a day or two after writing it and edit myself. c:
> 
> Let me know what you guys think! Incest is super ew right? What's Pietro's reasoning behind all this? What about _Wanda_? Is this why Lorna left in the first place? Most importantly: HOW DID THE REBELS FIND OUT?!?!
> 
> These are all lovely questions to ask yourself as I prepare the next chapter. I know where I'm headed with this fic, and I have it pretty well planned out mentally, I just have to put it to paper.
> 
> Btw, I won't update the tags with the Wanda/Pietro thing for reasons and also because I don't want to give spoilers to any new readers, at least for another chapter or so.
> 
> Anyway, I thank all of my faithful readers (especially after the wait, ugh I suck), and remind you to follow me on tumblr! snarkylittlespeedster.tumblr.com I take prompts and stuff, and you can feel free to hit up my ask any time! Thanks!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the months following the incident with Pietro, Tommy is having trouble coping with with his conflicting emotions. Tensions rise in the family, and Tommy turns to his mother for comfort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Okay, okay, I KNOW this took me like...half a year to update or something, but...I'm sorry.  
>  I literally have not had the muse to write at all since my last chapter. It just...left me. And then it came back!  
> I'm gonna start going through HoM and applying some of the changes that I've been wanting to make (which I posted in the last chapter) to make the story flow a little better and make me hate my writing at least a little bit less. cx   
> Also, I did not have a beta this time around, so please forgive any typos or anything.  
> As always, don't forget to follow me on tumblr! snarkylittlespeedster.tumblr.com  
> Anywhoo, Chapter 8 is finally here. Enjoy!

Tommy didn’t talk to anyone about what happened with Pietro – he _couldn’t_ talk to them about what happened. He tried to, once, with Noh-Varr. The words stuck in the back of his throat and formed a lump that throbbed painfully when he tried to swallow it down. “It’s nothing,” he would croak out instead, hoping that the dismissal would soothe the blockage, only to be disappointed.

A couple of times, people stopped by his room to talk to him. He felt numb, watching them filter in and awkwardly try to hold a conversation without mentioning what had happened, in the same way they had when he’d returned to the palace. Lorna knew the reason he was upset, but she didn’t try to console him past a simple “I’m sorry”. He found himself grateful for this; he was in no mood to be coddled, and he’d rather not pretend there were some way to make everything better.

Billy stopped by the most often, of course. He’d hover around him awkwardly, trying (and usually failing) not to ask him about what had happened. Tommy had already decided that the one person he couldn’t tell was Billy – it felt like a spiteful thing to do. There was no reason to ruin his brother’s fragile peace. When it came up, Tommy would just excuse himself for one reason or another; he needed a shower, he needed to go for a run, he was tired, anything to get his twin to leave him alone.

He began spending his nights on the rooftops with Noh-Varr again. It was strange, returning to the last place he’d been alone with him before everything in his world was flipped upside down. He’d sit, propped against the Kree, and stew on his thoughts in the only area where he actually felt at peace anymore.

“…They were right, you know,” he mumbled one night, nestled into Noh-Varr’s side. “I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be king.”

“ _Tommy_.” Noh-Varr shifted against him, his voice lowered and stern, but Tommy nudged him to keep him in place and continued.

“No, seriously. It’s not my birthright. If the public finds out…” He shook his head. “I don’t know. They’ll riot. Maybe not, but they’ll do _something_ , and it won’t be nice.” He breathed out a sigh. “Regardless, I don’t _belong_ here.”

“There have been unlikely kings in the past,” came the Kree’s reasoning, but it was weak even by Tommy’s standards.

“Yeah, maybe, but I don’t _want_ it. I didn’t want it before, I sure as hell don’t now.”

“…What are you thinking?”

“I don’t know.” Tommy shifted into Noh’s side, pulling his legs up and into the Kree’s lap, nesting his face in the crook of his neck. “Maybe I’ll just leave.”

Eventually, he began moving around the palace again. He hated being cooped up in his room, even if it was self-imposed. He slowly began to migrate back into the day-to-day schedule of the palace, waking at a normal time and dressing for occasions when needed. He attended family meals, which were often weighed down with the tension Tommy felt towards half of his family members. Erik started sending servants to request his presence in meetings, and while they were no less boring than they had ever been, they were slightly more bearable. He’d spent so long with the rebels that the meetings seemed almost fleeting, even to him. Nothing compared to the terrible wait that had been the year he’d spent with the rebels.

His relationship with Erik grew more tense as time passed. He no longer felt the need to hold back his opinions, because what could his grandfather do to him that he had not already endured a thousand times over? He began to scoff or roll his eyes when Erik would spout off something that sounded terribly elitist. He would point out a flaw in his logic; how did this benefit _everyone_ , and not just the mutants? The humans were his people, too.

What made Erik the angriest, though, was Tommy’s absolute _defiance_ when the King tried to quiet him. Tommy began to do it almost on purpose; he recognized that he was probably just acting out because of everything that had happened, but he couldn’t help it. He also felt as though Erik deserved it, to an extent at least. As a child, he’d always assumed Erik did what was best for the people, and that, while intimidating and even frightening at times, he was a great king. He was starting to realize that his grandfather had plenty of flaws of his own.

They began to argue, with increasingly disastrous results. One such argument found Tommy slouched in a seat, his arms crossed and his jaw grit as he fixed his grandfather with a thoroughly unimpressed gaze. Erik was pacing in front of him, tense and angry. He was attempting to keep his temper in check, but Tommy knew it wouldn’t last. The thought gave him a sort of smug satisfaction that twisted his lips up into his smirk, and Erik let out a frustrated growl.

“You are _just_ like your uncle,” he snarled, and Tommy’s smirk fell. His gaze grew cold, and he worked his jaw angrily.

“You mean my _father_ , right?” he asked, his words poisonous and sharp. Erik faltered; it was the first time Tommy had admitted out loud the truth about his parentage. His shoulders fell a little, and he opened his mouth to try and repair the damage he had caused, but Tommy was gone with a rush of air.

_Yes_ , Erik thought bitterly to himself, staring after his grandson. _Just like your father._

Things finally grew to a breaking point when Erik mentioned his relationship with Noh-Varr. The only thing Tommy could be thankful for was that it was just the two of them when Erik brought it up. He’d called the young prince in for a private meeting, and was sitting in his chair waiting for him. He looked worn and unwilling to bring up the topic of discussion, something that caused Tommy to approach him wearily.

“Sir,” he greeted him, more of a statement than a question of why he was there.

“…Take a seat, Thoma—“

“ _Erik_.” Tommy’s sharp reminder came, a little too harshly, and the king stiffened. However, the elderly man composed himself and let out a long and tired breath.

“…Tom, then. Take a seat.” Tommy shifted awkwardly, the nickname sounding strange to his ears, but did as he was asked, sinking into a seat across from him at the family table, running his hands along the wood and remembering the last time he and his grandfather had a conversation in that very room. Maybe this time he would destroy the table just to be spiteful. “So, what’s this about?” he asked, his voice gruff.

“Something has...come to my attention. And I want to address it, but...I do not want to upset you.”

Erik’s words had Tommy sitting more upright in his chair, suddenly uneasy. “Obviously you know that it will. What is it this time?” he asked, regarding his grandfather with caution. 

“...It is about Noh-Varr.” Erik’s gaze was steady as he regarded his grandson. “And your… _relationship_ with him.” Tommy felt his breath catch, and he stiffened considerably. He felt both embarrassed and afraid, because his relationship had been addressed in the first place, and he feared Erik might try to send Noh-Varr away. The feelings mixed rapidly inside of him until they swelled into an anger that threatened to shake him to the core; it seemed to be his coping method with most things these days. “And what about it?” he asked, his voice cold and trembling with his barely-repressed emotions.

“It is inappropriate, and--”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Let me go cuddle up with Billy then, since that seems to be the way this family works,” he snapped, the words spilling from his mouth before he could stop them. He was leaned forward in his seat, hands gripping the armrests as they trembled. He didn’t know what was wrong with him, why he suddenly felt the urge to bring up what happened with Pietro all the time.

“ _Thomas_ , that is--”

“Oh, go to hell,” he spat, throwing himself back into his seat again and crossing his arms, his shaking hands shoved under his arms and out of view.

The two of them glared at each other for a long moment, each waiting for the other to break. Neither did. Finally, Erik gave a sigh, and started again. “I understand you are upset about that, but it has been _months_ , and their actions have _nothing_ to do with your own behavior--”

“You’re right,” Tommy cut in, feeling a rush at how Erik looked ready to explode; the King _hated_ to be interrupted. He knew he was pushing it, that his grandfather was nearing the point of being unable to control his anger, but he couldn’t help but press a little harder. “But it has _everything_ to do with why I can’t sleep at night!” He stood as well, bracing his hands on the table and leaning forward to glare at his grandfather. “And, because I _know_ you love being reminded of this, it’s the reason I was kidnapped and tortured for a whole goddamn year! So yeah, I’m a little pissed at the hypocrisy here.”

Erik’s gaze burned as he regarded Tommy, and he worked his jaw for a moment before speaking with a forced calm. “...Have you consummated your relationship with him?”

Tommy’s felt horrified, his jaw dropping. “I--what-- _What_? No! Oh my g--why would you even _ask_ tha--”

“Because I have been looking at _suitable_ candidates for you, and--”

“ _What_?” Tommy’s voice rose once again, and he shook his head, swiping a hand through the air sharply. “No, _no_ , I am not just marrying off to someone that _you_ pick--”

“You’ll get to _meet_ them, Thomas,” his grandfather said, a hint of condescension in his tone. “You will have options.”

“Oh, _options_?” Tommy gave a dry, sarcastic laugh. “Oh, that’s great, I’ll have _options_ , that _you_ picked out for me. Because you know me _so_ well,” he spat out, moving away from his chair so he could pace, clenching his fists angrily.

“It’s not that bad, stop blowing it out of proportion-”

“Oh, hey,” Tommy cut in, pointing at him. “Is Billy on that list too? No, I guess he wouldn’t be, since you already swore him off to an alien Emperor. Or is that fake? I mean, we have to keep family tradition, don’t we?” he asked, the sarcasm in his statements punctuated with mock laughter and false smiles, only to be quickly replaced as he finished speaking by the angry scowl he’d been sporting previously.

“Thomas, _stop_ joking about that, it is _not_ funny!” Erik slammed his fists on the table to punctuate his words, his own hands trembling now, and Tommy whipped his head to face him again.

“No. No, you’re right. It’s _not_. What’s _funny_ is that after all the lies, and the _bullshit_ you have put Billy and I through, you expect that I’m still just going to step up to the throne whenever you call, and play your little fucking game. You know what?” he demanded, his voice raising as he spoke. “I am _done_ being a pawn in these stupid little games. I am _done_ being lied to, and treated like a child. I am _done_ doing things, just because you say they should be done, _especially_ when you are just a bitter, shriveled-up old man who refuses to let his old grudges go!” Tommy didn’t even notice all of the metal objects in the room beginning to rattle. “Why the hell do you hate humans so much, anyway?” he asked, the thought occurring to him.

“The _humans_ are the ones who _took_ you!” Erik pointed out.

“Yeah, and I wonder why?” Tommy shot back. “You know, I bet they wouldn’t even _care_ so much if you weren’t so goddamn biased!”

“You think _I_ am at fault for what happened to you?” Erik asked, aghast.

“I think you definitely didn’t help,” he shot back. “I think a lot of people in that facility were humans, and after sitting in on some of your meetings, I can _see_ why they don’t want us in power!”

Erik gave a cold laugh. “Did they really twist your mind so terribly that you are _taking their side_?”

Tommy faltered, the realization hitting him like a ton of bricks. “Well--they’re not-- _no_! I’m not talking about them, I’m saying...humans in general!” He knew that his argument was weakening, and he felt his stomach twist uncomfortably.

“You are only having these ideas because of what _they taught_ you, Thomas.” Erik saw the boy flinch away from his words as if they were physical blows, but he was too consumed by his anger to pull his words. “Did you have these opinions _before_ they took you?”

“Well...no, but I didn’t...I didn’t _know_ …” Tommy suddenly felt very small, and a little sick to his stomach.

“And, because they told you how _terrible_ things are for them, you believe them? Why is that?”

Tommy felt his stomach lurch, and he gripped the back of his chair, eyes downcast. “...They have to have had a _reason_ …”

“You know their reason.”

“Yeah, but it has to be _more_ than that. That can’t...be the only reason why.” He shook his head in denial, and swallowed past the all-too-familiar lump building in his throat. 

“It is, Thomas. I know it’s hard to accept, but it is.” Erik’s voice remained cold, and he moved his hands behind his back, regaining his sternly calm composure. “Returning to the reason I brought you here...I am not asking you. You _will_ end this silly romance with Noh-Varr.” His words left no room for argument. “Or I will send him back to wherever he came from.”

“...Is that why you kept Charles around? Because he was a _silly romance_?” Tommy slowly raised his eyes to meet those of his grandfather. He flinched back when he saw the look burning in the old man’s eyes, fury and pain and _rage_. He realized, in that instant, that he had pushed him too far. Before he could even recognize what Erik was doing, he was sent flying across the room, slamming into an end table against the far wall. The wood snapped under the weight of the blow, and he slid to the ground, frozen in place by his grandfather’s hold on him.

“You _dare_ mention Charles?” Erik asked, hand extended as he moved forward, obviously seething. “You may pretend to know about the world, boy,” he snarled out, his voice dangerously low. “But you know _nothing_ of the sacrifices of a King.” He towered above the speedster, all anger and raw power. “You _will_ continue your training here. You _will_ become King.” “ _Dad_!” Lorna threw open the door to the room, drawn by the sound of the breaking furniture, and froze in the doorway for a brief moment as she took in the scene. She then extended her own hands, throwing Erik back and away. He hit the ground and looked to his daughter, startled out of his anger. “Are you _insane_?” she cried, her hands still held up in case Erik decided to retaliate. When he did nothing, she gave a disgusted scoff and turned away from him. 

She moved to Tommy, kneeling down beside him. “Tommy, honey, are you okay?” she asked, her voice soft, but it was obvious that he wasn’t. His eyes were wide, his body shaking, and he looked at her as if he didn’t recognize her before her words seemed to register.

“I just..I need to...to go,” he croaked out, his words all but a whisper as he pushed himself to his feet shakily.

“No, honey, hold on a second--” Lorna reached out to grab his shoulder, but he had already disappeared from the room.

He didn’t wait up to hear her whirl on Erik and start yelling at him. He ran out of the palace and into the grounds, and didn’t stop until his legs were shaking too violently for him to continue. He fell to his hands and knees, and ducked his head down, wrapping his arms around it and rocking back and forth. His chest burned and constricted, blocking his airflow, and his whole body shook. He fought back the flashbacks that had started the moment Erik had thrown him and pinned him down. He mumbled what was meant to be reassuring words under his breath, telling himself that they had no control over him, but his panic forced him to see the opposite. Obviously they still _did_.

“My prince?” Tommy jerked, looking up to see a concerned guard standing nearby. “Are you alright?”

Tommy took a few deep breaths before answering, bracing his hands on his knees and doubling over. “...Fine,” he croaked out. “I’m fine.” He stood on shaky legs, waving a dismissal at the guard, who reluctantly returned to his post. He took a few more deep breaths, and then pulled out his phone, beginning to walk back to the palace. He dialed a number and pressed the phone to his ear, still focusing on steady breathing. “...Billy? Can you meet me in mom’s room? I...I want to talk to her. Alone, if-if you don’t mind.”

He walked to her room numbly, rethinking his decision with every step. When he arrived, however, he realized that he desperately wanted to talk to her. He knew it probably wouldn’t do much to ease his pain and confusion, and that she wouldn’t really understand what was going on, but he _needed_ his mother. He’d needed her months ago, he’d just been too afraid to face her when she was finally woken.

Billy stood outside her room, looking concerned. “Are you okay? What happened?” he asked urgently.

Tommy looked over his brother; he was slightly thinner, more gaunt, with faint bags under his eyes. He wondered, for a moment, what kind of a toll everything was taking on his twin. Had he been eating properly? Had he been sleeping? If his looks were anything to go by, probably not. They weren’t obvious changes, but Tommy could tell. He could always tell when things were eating at his brother. He had just been so wrapped up in his own problems that he hadn’t even stopped to consider the effect on his brother.

“I’ll...no. I’ll tell you after, okay?” he answered, trying not to sound as tired or defeated as he felt. “Promise.”

Billy nodded, and opened the door to Wanda’s room.

It was almost ethereal, stepping into his mother’s room. It was a source of comfort, the scent of Wanda’s favorite candles wafting through the air and rushing out of the room into the hallway as soon as the door was opened. They provided a low lighting to the red-themed room, casting a delicate wash of color on the sheer canopy above her bed. Wanda was laid on her back, her hair carefully brushed and cleaned, and her hands folded just under her chest, looking as perfect and innocent as she always did. Beside her bed there was a plush chair, and on the bedside table was a book from one of the many bookcases in the room, the spot last read marked with a deep red tassel. Erik often visited his daughter when she was struggling the most to read to her, a tender gesture that was reserved for her only.

Tommy sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of it all, and approached the bed slowly, easing to sit in the chair as Billy approached his mother. He laid a hand on her forehead and closed his eyes, whispering under his breath. “ _Iwantmomtowakeup Iwantmomtowakeup Iwantmomtowakeup…_ ” She breathed in deeply and let it out in a content sigh, and Billy stepped away, giving a quick nod to his brother before exiting the room discreetly.

Her eyelids fluttered, and Tommy felt his eyes stinging already. He’d missed her so much; how many times had he cried out for her while suffering under the cruel hand of the rebels? How many times had he silently called for her while wallowing in despair since his return? 

Her eyes opened completely, and she looked straight above her for a moment, drawing herself out of her deep sleep. She looked around the room, at all the familiar decorations she so favored, until her eyes landed on her son. It seemed to take her a moment to process what she was seeing, and she sat up slowly, a hand pressed over her mouth. “Oh...Oh, Tommy…” she breathed out, tears springing to her eyes.

Tommy couldn’t hold his own back any longer, choking back a sob as he looked at her, hugging himself tightly. “Hey, Mom.” He moved instinctively, leaving the chair and perching on the bed, still hugging himself as he leaned against her. She wrapped her arms around him immediately, and he soon followed suit, slinging his arms around her neck.

“Oh, my boy…” she cooed softly, her words watery with the tears that were falling freely now. “Who took you? Why did they take you? Ohh, they hurt you…” Her words were pained as she remembered all she had seen and felt before being put to sleep, and she hugged Tommy tighter as he crumpled against her, combing a hand through his hair as he sobbed. 

They sat in each other’s embrace until Tommy had shed all the tears he could, and longer. She continued to comb a hand through his hair, muttering words of reassurance to him all the while. He’d missed her, desperately; missed her warmth, and her love, even if she was often too far separated from reality to understand what was happening around her.

They finally relaxed, and Wanda kept her arms wrapped around him, humming a soft tune as she gently rocked him. She had sung the song to himself and his brother when they were little, to help them fall asleep, and had always referred back to it when either of them were distressed. It almost always worked.

“...Mom,” Tommy finally started quietly, his voice slightly raspy. “...Who… Who’s my father?”

Wanda pulled away just enough to look at him with confusion, her brows furrowed. “Well -- it’s Simon. You know that,” she chided him gently, returning to her humming.

“I mean…” He took a deep breath, sighing. “...What happened with Pietro?” He bit his bottom lip, afraid that he would have been dredging up terrible, damaging memories for his mother, but she didn’t seem bothered in the slightest.

“What do you mean, sweetie?” she asked gently. “He cried when you were born, but I’ve told you that,” she said with a soft chuckle, smiling.

“Right, of course he did.” He sighed; he probably wasn’t ever going to get a straight answer out of her. “Sorry, I’ve just...been thinking.”

“Oh, you don’t need to apologize, Tommy…” she mumbled gently, placing a sweet kiss on the top of his head. “You never have to apologize to me.”

He wanted to stay there forever, laying in his mother’s arms, and forget everything that had happened to him, but he knew that he couldn’t. Eventually, real life would catch up to him and Erik would be trying to convince him that he needed to be king, and that he needed an arranged marriage with someone ‘proper’. He couldn’t avoid that, not if he stayed where he was.

He pulled away gently, and Wanda let out a disappointed sigh that almost had him falling right back into her arms. “Where are you going?” she asked, clearly disappointed, and he jammed his eyes shut. He couldn’t give in, he couldn’t stay here and pretend the world didn’t exist. He _couldn’t_.

“Just...going on a little trip, Mom,” he croaked out, the lie drying out his throat. He shifted so that he was seated on the very edge of the bed, his back to her. “I’m just gonna go somewhere safe for a little while. I’ll--I’ll be back, don’t worry.”

“What? Where are you going?” She repeated, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder and trying to pull him back to her.

He looked down and away. “It’s… It doesn’t matter, Mom. I’ll be safe there. Don’t… Don’t worry about me, okay? I’ll be fine.”

“Can’t I go with you?” she asked, sounding much like a sad child asking to go on a trip with their parents. The irony of it was not missed by the speedster.

He let out a sigh. She really wasn’t making this easy on him. “No, Mom, it’s...it’s better for you to stay here.”

She was quiet for a long moment, and then squeezed his shoulder. “Well...at least give me a proper goodbye.” The words sounded as though from a petulant child, and she held out her arms expectantly, waiting for the hug she knew she would receive.

Tommy’s eyes stung again but he had no tears left. He turned and hugged her tightly, his arms wrapped around her torso. She wrapped her own around him, one hand pushed softly into his hair, and kissed the top of his head. He lingered for a few moments before he pulled away with a sniffle, and gave her a watery smile before standing.

Every step towards her door felt like a fight, and it was increasingly taxing to continue walking. He heard her soft ‘goodbye’ as he opened the door, and he had to practically drag himself out of the room and away from the comfort of his mother. By the time he shut the door behind him, he’d exhausted himself, and he pressed it closed with his back, sagging against it.

“...Tommy?” Billy’s voice sounded so _small_ , and Tommy looked to him sadly, taking a deep breath.

“Erik is trying to arrange a marriage for me. We got in a fight, and he…” he trailed off, swallowing thickly. “He threw me across the room. That’s what’s wrong.”

“He did what?” His brother, who had previously looked so frail, was suddenly a sight to behold; threats to his brother did not go unpunished by him. “He _threw_ you?”

“He...yeah, Billy. I brought up Charles and he kind of...lost it.” He pushed away from the door, approaching his brother. “Lorna stepped in and stopped him, but…” He licked his lips nervously.

“But what?”

“...I’m leaving, Billy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was it worth the wait? (definitely not, I know.)  
> Lmao, anyway, please, if it fits your fancy, do tell me what you think about this chapter. I'm actually a little happier with how I wrote this one than I am with some of the others.  
> What did you think about Wanda? She's finally awake...well, as awake as she's gonna get.  
> Also, Erik is a d-bag, but when is that anything new? (You don't ask your GRANDSON if he's had SEX with his BOYFRIEND, ERIK.)  
> I feel like I kind of threw a lot of different characters into this and maybe flooded it a little bit. What do you guys think? I'm going to try and just focus each chapter on a couple of characters at a time, unless otherwise needed.  
> Anyway...I don't think the next chapter will take quite as long as this one. At least we have that!  
> As always, thank you so so so much for reading, I love you all and it's still utterly baffling that I have been receiving kudos/comments even in my absence, but it's awesome knowing that people like to read my dumb fanfictions n.n


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy makes the decision to leave the House of Magnus after his violent argument with Erik, escaping into the night with Noh-Varr at his side. He finally begins healing, while Billy struggles with the mounting tensions at home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um...it's been like...a year. But, you know, things haven't been great for me, and now they're way better. So, if you're still reading at this point, thank you for sticking it out, you da best. Have some well-deserved fluff; this chapter isn't super long, but I now know _exactly_ which direction I am taking this. The next chapter will probably be considerably longer, because it's going to be a lil' full. (;
> 
> Uh, other than that, ignore any notes that I wrote about changes to the world. (I'll be deleting those soon, just need to wait till I have better computer access so things are easier). But yeah, I had wanted to rewrite the entire fic this past year and the other night I reread it and decided that I like the wold where it's at. Things are good. So, uh, enjoy!
> 
> (Also don't forget to follow me on tumblr @ snarkylittlespeedster.tumblr.com kthnx)

Tommy felt...strange, watching the palace grow smaller below him while he was carried away on Noh’s ship. He’d almost forgotten the thing existed -- it was kind of a package deal that came with Noh being gifted to Tommy. He’d been surprised to remember that the ship was an option; it wasn’t like they ever _used_ the thing. He honestly hadn’t had much of a plan in mind when he’d gone to Noh with his decision, he had just known he needed to leave.

Noh hadn’t agreed with him, at first. However, the moment Tommy mentioned that Erik had attacked him, Noh-Varr had offered his ship as a means of escape. It would be hard to follow them in space, and, in Noh-Varr’s own words, his job was to protect Tommy...even if that meant protecting him from his family. Of course, there was only so much he could do in regards to personal affairs, but he wasn’t going to stand by idly if Erik had attacked Tommy and his prince wanted to leave.

They actually managed to leave almost completely unnoticed; Billy had helped, if not a little reluctantly, but as it turned out, Kree technology was remarkable. Noh activated the cloaking shield while Tommy was still saying goodbye to his brother, and he actually hadn’t been able to find his way onto the ship until Noh had come to retrieve him. The inside of it only served to make Tommy more excited; everything was so sleek and futuristic, and...he didn’t know how to use any of it.

It was definitely going to be an adventure.

He plopped down in the copilots seat as they began to leave, leaning forward to watch as the palace became indiscernible from the surrounding city, which eventually melted away as well. He was silent as it continued to shrink away, the planet coming into view as they left its orbit, in awe of the sight laid out before him.

“There’s not much room to run,” Noh said suddenly, eyes fixed on the display spread out before him. “I apologize for that.” Tommy blinked, looking at him incredulously.

“I don’t...care? I mean,” he paused, brows furrowing inward. “It’s not like we can’t just stop on another planet, right?” Noh was quiet for a moment, and Tommy leaned in a little. “Noh? _Right?_ ” 

“I can’t provide a definitive answer to that yet,” Noh replied slowly, choosing his words carefully. “There’s a chance...especially given your grandfather’s temper and his displeasure towards our -- _activities_ \-- that he might put out a bounty for your return.”

“To the entire universe? I mean, come _on_ \--”

“You forget, Tommy, that he’s allied with the leader of the Kree/Skrull Empire,” Noh pointed out, raising a brow and looking towards him. “And...they are...already gathering in force,” he added reluctantly, sounding very much like he hadn’t wanted to give out that bit of information.

“What? Why?” Tommy could have screamed -- of _course_ things were about a thousand times more complicated than he had already thought they were.

“Well...war is brewing, Tommy. Your grandfather has been planning it since shortly after your kidnapping. He intends to use any means necessary to find who took you.” The news was a little surprising; it shouldn’t have been, honestly, but with how much Tommy and his grandfather had been arguing, he’d expected his kidnapping to be a menial thing of the past in Erik’s mind. He had started to use it against him, after all.

“Ugh, well, not my problem anymore,” Tommy said dismissively, shifting in his seat to face Noh fully. “But are you saying that Teddy would what, hunt us down?”

“I...he might be politically required to, if your grandfather demands it. I doubt he would _want_ to, of course, but that has very little to do with his actual actions. Sometimes...when in those positions, you have to do things that--”

“Okay, fine, I get it, god,” Tommy said, flapping a hand at Noh and turning forward again, slouching down in the chair and kicking up his feet. He noticed a disapproving glance from Noh, but didn’t bother moving them; he was in the mood to be a nuisance. “The _last_ thing I need is another lecture about the responsibilities of leaders.”

“...Understandable.”

“Well...Billy said he’ll be in touch, right? So if we hear from him--no, I mean, shit, if I’m gonna be in _space_ I want to _explore_ things! You even said you didn’t get to before they sent you to Earth. You can’t honestly tell me that, with all of your _skills_ you can’t take us to visit a few measly planets.”

“I...we’ll see, Tommy,” Noh-Varr said with a sigh, shaking his head lightly.

“Great!” He exclaimed, slapping his hands down on the dash and sitting up in his chair. “So, you gonna teach me to fly this thing or not? Also, how do you open the doors? I actually have to pee so bad,” he said, giving Noh a cheeky grin.

It was gonna be one hell of a trip.

\---

“What do you mean, _he’s not here?_ ” The table was awkwardly silent, the family and select guests assembled for breakfast. Billy remained carefully composed in the face of his grandfather’s wrath. He carefully folded his napkin and placed it in his lap, raising his eyes to meet Erik’s when he was ready.

“I mean, he isn’t coming to breakfast because he isn’t _here_ ,” he repeated. “If I had to wager a guess, I’d say he didn’t appreciate being thrown across the room and into your _furniture_.

The statement was received with surprise by all attending except for Lorna, who just sighed, propping her chin on top of a hand as she glowered at her father. Erik seemed at a loss of words, his hands curling into fists. “Do you mean to say he--”

“ _I mean to say_ what I’ve already said,” Billy said sharply, cutting off his grandfather. Everyone was surprised by the behavior of the youngest prince -- he had never spoken out of turn or acted out directly. He’d always been very respectful and well-behaved, so seeing him angry and speaking out against Erik caused unrest amongst all present. “I _also_ mean to say that I think this family is falling apart due to your temper and inattention. I don’t blame my brother in the slightest for leaving. I just hope he’s able to recover from the damage you’ve caused on top of what he had already received.”

The table was completely silent, even Erik unable to formulate a response, and Billy heaved a sigh, pulling the napkin from his lap with irritation and tossing it back onto the table. He stood, the grinding of his chair across the ground breaking the harsh quiet of the room. “I’ve suddenly lost my appetite,” he said curtly. “I won’t be joining you for breakfast.” He gave a stiff bow, and then strode from the room, all eyes on him as he exited.

Lorna, who was smirking at that point, raised her head and gestured vaguely at Erik with her hand.

“Well...he’s not wrong.”

\---

The ship grew comfortable over time; the only strange thing had been what Tommy assumed was the onboard computer of sorts; PLEX, as it called itself, was downright _weird._ It was a strange green blob of a face that appeared in various tubes throughout the ship. Noh explained that it was a replication of the Supreme Intelligence that lead his people, but it did little to soothe Tommy’s unease around the thing. He’d finally drawn the line with the thing hanging around all the time when he’d woken up to see it staring at them while they slept.

The “captain’s quarters” on the ship were fairly spacious, all things considered, with a giant curved window taking the place of two of the walls. Everything was in pristine condition, of course, and Tommy had been surprised to find a variety of records and CDs filed away neatly on the shelves in the room. Apparently, upon arriving to Earth, Noh had developed a private fascination with music. Personally, Tommy didn’t see _where_ Noh got the time to collect music, let alone listen to it, but apparently in the short amounts of time where Noh was dismissed while Tommy spent time with his family, he managed to get by.

He was pleasantly surprised to see a change in the Kree as they spent more time away from Earth. Without the pressure of palace life looming over both of them, they were able to relax. The night that Noh-Varr started _dancing_ to his music was the night that things really started to feel _right_ again. Where they were, wandering through space and taking in the sights, Tommy felt he was able to truly recover. His nightmares reduced greatly in number, and no matter what happened Noh-Varr was always wrapped securely around him when he woke, ready to comfort him if he needed it.

As was his habit, Tommy would check the mirror in the mornings, and he was increasingly pleased with what he saw. He had regained the weight he had lost, and looked healthy again. His bruises had completely faded, and while there were still marks and scars to remind him of what he had been through, he found that he didn’t mind them all that much. _Battle scars_ , Noh had called them fondly. A reminder of what he had survived, what he had conquered. And when Tommy began to fret over the remaining demons he _hadn’t_ conquered, Noh was there to assure him that oftentimes, the hardest battles were the ones unseen.

He said he knew Tommy was healing because his eyes were beginning to shine again.

There was no worry about whether or not his mind was his own, he no longer worried what his grandfather had in store for him. He was completely removed from the world he had left behind, and he finally felt _free_. While he had always craved escaping from the palace, he held a newfound appreciation for the feeling after being held captive.

Things were better than he could have ever hoped for.

\---

Tensions continued rising in the Magnus household after Tommy’s disappearance. Billy, without the ability to consistently reach out to his twin, was growing frustrated with his fiance’s behavior. Teddy had never been secretive before, but Billy couldn’t shake the feeling that something was being hidden from him. Between the family’s constant in-fighting, Teddy’s sudden disappearances and frequent meetings with his people, and Tommy’s absence, Billy felt about ready to explode.

He knew it wasn’t healthy to harbor those feelings. He had been taught severely that losing control of his emotions could cause irreparable damage to those around him if they resulted in his powers reacting in kind. It was hard to control them when he was upset; he and his mother were alike in that regard. With her awake and wandering the castle again, Billy fell back into the habit of meditating with her every day, finding it a suitable outlet for his more rash emotions. When she began questioning him about Tommy’s whereabouts, however, his frustrations were renewed; his mother didn’t understand, _couldn’t_ understand what was going on. He didn’t know what to tell her, or when Tommy was coming back, _if_ he was. Hell, the only reason Lorna had returned was because of Tommy.

Everything was falling apart, and there was nothing he could do about it. 

So, he meditated. He tried not to think too much on how everything was in shambles, but it was hard, especially as his mother grew distant and began to hide herself away. It was something she did from time to time, and it almost guaranteed that Erik would be at her beck and call, ready to read her a chapter of whatever book they were on. The good news was that it meant that things simmered down a little with Erik’s absence. The bad news was that, well, things needed to be _fixed_ and no one seemed to want to do anything about it.

He heard someone settle down in front of him while meditating, too distracted to truly enter the state that he needed to in order to find peace. He opened his eyes just a crack to see who it was, and then started slightly, opening them fully.

“Teddy?” He hadn’t honestly expected to see him for a while; it seemed like he was around less and less these days.He wanted to be angry, but he was met by the same gentle smile that Teddy seemed to reserve specifically for him, and he found himself moving towards the other despite himself. He slipped into his lap, tucking his head against Teddy’s chest and giving a little sigh as he felt a kiss pressed to the top of his head.

“Hello, little star,” Teddy hummed against his hair. Billy almost resented how much he warmed at the term of endearment, pressing himself in closer and sighing quietly. “What’s bothering you?”

“Everything,” Billy answered on an exhale, letting his eyes slip closed. He wanted to talk about it, about how he felt like the weight of everything in the palace seemed to be crushing down on him. He wanted to talk about how he missed his brother, and wanted his mother there and present. He wanted to talk about how his grandfather seemed to be the root of everyone’s problems, but he actually couldn’t tell because it seemed like _everyone_ was hiding something from him, Teddy included. He wanted to spill the beans, to rave and rant and go crazy, but he was just _tired_.

“What can I do to help?” Teddy asked quietly, concern evident in his voice. Oh, how the hell was he supposed to stay _mad_ at him when he was one of the most genuinely kind people Billy had ever met? Dammit.

“Just...let’s sit like this for a while,” he mumbled, turning to press his face into Teddy’s neck. Onlookers be damned; he deserved some affection.

\---

If Tommy had to rate which of his experiences were the best, he would probably put waking up to the sight of a giant, breathtaking planet up at the top. He opened bleary eyes to a gentle orange light washing over him, and blinked in confusion. He pushed himself into a sitting position and gently twisted out of Noh’s hold, rubbing at his eyes and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He stood and began shuffling towards the window, his eyes widening in awe as he took in the sight before him.

“Whoa…” he breathed out quietly, taking in the sight of the planet. It was a swirl of different shades of orange, the planet giving off a soothing glow that cast a tint on everything in the cabin of the ship. He heard movement behind him but didn’t look back to see Noh, though he shook himself out of his trance, slightly embarrassed by his reaction. “...What is it?” he asked, finally tearing his eyes away to turn and look at Noh-Varr as he approached.

“ _Hala_ ,” the Kree answered, his voice lowered and heavy with sleep. “Home.”

“Wha--you didn’t--I didn’t know we were going here!” Tommy exclaimed, doing a double-take between Noh and the planet. “This is--this is where you’re from?” he asked incredulously.

“Yes,” Noh answered smoothly, a smirk tugging at his lips as he stopped just behind Tommy, surveying the planet from behind him. “It _is_ nice to look at, isn’t it?”

“Are we...going there?” Tommy asked, almost timidly; he felt like he knew the answer, but there was definitely a big part of him that wanted to see the planet up close. Noh’s answering laugh told him that he wouldn’t get that chance.

“No, fortunately, we aren’t,” he mused, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he looked over the planet.

“Fortunately?” Tommy asked, glancing back at him curiously.

“You wouldn’t actually like being on the Kree homeworld. For starters, there are many who don’t agree with the Kree allying with the Skrulls, and in extension with Earth. Also, I am considered...well, they aren’t fond of my behavior.”

Tommy barked out a short laugh. “What’s that supposed to mean? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you step a toe out of line, Noh. I thought you said they were uptight?”

“That’s...putting it lightly. They believe you should be devoid of emotion and function purely on logic. Technically...I share the ability to reroute the chemicals in my brain and live as they do, but...I rather prefer not to,” he answered, giving a low hum of thought as he continued to stare at the planet.

Tommy stared at him for a moment, blinking at him before turning away from the window. “Well, if they’re shitty to you because you like to have _emotions_ then you’re right. I _don’t_ want to go.” He started to step away, stopping only when Noh placed a gentle hand on his chest, slowly guiding him back until his back was pressed to the glass. Noh’s hand rested there, his fingertips lightly pressed over his heart. Tommy felt his heart rate pick up in speed in response to the touch, the way it always did when Noh was this way with him; he briefly thought back to their night shared in the shower, and then pushed the memory from his mind.

“I don’t...know quite how to word this,” Noh-Varr started slowly, his eyes downcast as he searched for the proper words to convey his feelings. “But...I can’t live in absence of emotion after what I have experienced--”

Tommy cut him off, his nerves compelling him to speak up and reassure him. “Well, I--no one expects you to, Noh-” He stopped short when the Kree suddenly turned his intense gaze onto him, the look in his eyes enough to silence him.

“That’s not quite what I’m saying, Tommy,” he said, his voice remaining insistently calm. “The time that I have spent with you over the last few years...has changed my perspective entirely. I would sooner turn my back on my culture than forfeit the feelings I have experienced by your side.”

Tommy felt like his throat was drying up, his stomach twisting into knots ten times over from the implication of what Noh-Varr was saying to him. “...Yeah?” he croaked out, barely able to find his voice. Noh-Varr gave a short chuckle, taking a moment to seemingly mull over his own words.

“Yes,” he answered, smoothing out his hand slowly until it was pressed against Tommy’s chest, the speedster’s heart thundering against his hand. “I...wanted to share this place with you, first,” he mused, gaze flicking back to the planet.

“...Before…?” Tommy couldn’t wrap his mind around the situation; he felt as though he were in shock from this sudden confession of...what? What the hell could Noh-Varr possibly be saying to him?

“Before...I said goodbye,” Noh said thoughtfully. He turned his blue-eyed gaze back onto Tommy, and was silent for a moment that seemed to stretch on for a lifetime. “You are my _hala_ now. My home.”

Tommy sucked in a sharp breath, unable to tear his eyes away from Noh’s. The Kree was gazing at him intently, and there was no denying that he meant every word of what he’d said, though Tommy couldn’t imagine in his wildest dreams _why_. “I...You…” He couldn’t formulate a response, stumbling over his words until the pressure of Noh’s hand on his chest increased ever so slightly, the Kree moving forward slowly.

Any chance Tommy had of formulating an even half-witted response was lost as Noh’s head ducked down, lips meeting his own. There was a definite moment of shock, and then he was kissing him back, arms wrapping around his torso and his fingers pressing into his back. _This._ This was what felt right. There was no _way_ he could go back home. Not when it risked taking _this_ away from him.

Noh-Varr’s hand moved from his chest to slide around Tommy’s torso, and soon he felt strong arms lifting him into the air. He wrapped his legs around Noh’s waist, his arms settling around his neck as he was carried over to the bed. He felt almost disconnected from the situation, but not in the same way he had the night they’d spent in the shower. This time, he was consumed with a feeling of bliss, of utter _rightness_ , and he let himself slip into the feeling, putting his reservations aside as the Kree settled over him.

Whatever clothing they had worn to bed was soon discarded, their kisses interrupted only by heavy breathing and shudders of pleasure as their hands roamed. Noh-Varr prepared him slowly, lovingly, infuriatingly patient in contrast to Tommy’s desire. He was insistent on taking every precaution; a pillow propped under his hips, constant kisses and touches in just the right places to keep Tommy consumed by his pleasure. 

When he finally lowered himself over Tommy again he paused, waiting for permission. Tommy, his face flushed and his hair askew, gave a breathless nod, and Noh’s lips quirked up in a smirk again. “I’ll help ease the process,” he mumbled, lowering down to press a few deliberate kisses to the underside of his jaw. “...Happy birthday, my prince.”

Tommy was slightly startled out of his daze by the words, the realization hitting him like a ton of bricks. Shit, it was his _birthday_. The thought was immediately pushed from his mind as he was met with a chaste kiss, the taste of Noh-Varr followed closely by a sensation of warmth flooding through his body. He gasped, both in surprise and pleasure, and arched into the other’s touch enthusiastically.

The warmth that had seemed to flow through him with the kiss ebbed away, replaced shortly by the more real sensation of sharing himself with Noh-Varr, his breath coming in shallow gasps as they moved together. It wasn’t long before he was lost to the ecstasy, and Noh followed soon after, pressing his face into Tommy’s neck and kissing there affectionately before collapsing to lay in the bed beside him. He wrapped himself around Tommy, tugging the smaller male against him securely and burying his face in his neck. He gave a low, content sigh, and Tommy followed suit, eyes lingering on the massive planet as the ship slowly cruised out of orbit. 

Maybe Noh-Varr could be his home, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh, so...good fluff? Where did it come from? Who knew I was capable??? I sure as hell didn't. V cheesy stuff, this chapter.
> 
> Also, Billy home miserable while Tommy's having the time of his life. Kinda role reversal in a way, right?
> 
> Finally, I hope to have the next chapter up within the next week or two! I have a lot more free time on my hands than I used to so I'm hoping to actually meet (or even _beat_ ) my goal!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy visits Tommy for their birthday. A chain of events leads to Billy finally getting the answers he was looking for, and Pietro finds solace in an unlikely friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoooot, never gonna give you guys an ETA on a chapter again cause my muse is fickle as fuuuck and I can't ever keep to my own deadlines. Giving myself deadlines is the worst thing I can do apparently.
> 
> But uh, this is un-beta'd, I literally just finished writing it at work like fifteen minutes ago so I apologize for any mistakes I missed skimming over it. 
> 
> As always, thanks for sticking with me and I hope you guys enjoy! Hit me up on tumblrrr snarkylittlespeedster.tumblr.com

Tommy groaned loudly into his pillow, laying face down on Noh’s bed. “ _Ugh,_ what the hell, I don’t remember it hurting this bad _earlier!_ ” he complained, turning his head to glare at Noh-Varr piteously.

Noh-Varr gave a chuckle, pressing a hand on top of his head to tousle his hair gently before he reached down and pressed a kiss to his temple. "I told you I was going to help. I did."

"What?" Tommy's words were sharp, but he begrudgingly allowed the affection.

"I...have nanobots in my saliva. I simply gave you a rush of endorphins. After that, your own body took over." He straightened and moved to collect a record from his shelf, carefully removing it from its sheathe and placing it on the record player he had.

"You have _what?_ Holy--what _can't_ you do?" he asked, giving a huff.

Noh placed the needle onto the record, letting the music creak into existence. "Leave your side, for one," he said, his smirk infuriatingly smug in the face of Tommy's scoff.

"Oh, my--get the hell out of here, Noh-Varr," Tommy said dismissively. He turned his face back into his pillow, voice muffled as he continued talking. "Leave me here to die in peace," he complained. Noh-Varr just laughed lightly, shaking his head. 

"As you wish," he responded smoothly. "I will be back with food shortly."

"You can't cook for shit," Tommy mumbled at him as he left, but the insult was half-hearted. He let his eyes slip closed, and heaved a small sigh, shoving his arms under the pillow and trying to rest. 

His rest was interrupted shortly when a bright flash of blue light suddenly washed over him. He gave a groan, not even startled; he had been around his brother's magic long enough to know when it was being used around him.

" _That's_ a nice way to greet your brother," came Billy's cool voice. He took a moment to regain his balance from the massive distance he’d traveled and then turned slowly, admiring the room as well as the view outside. "Well...you're not back home but it looks like you're still living a life of luxury," he commented lightly.

"Yeah, yeah. Stuff it," Tommy grumbled, still not opening his eyes.

"Well...happy birthday to you, too," Billy said with a smirk, finally turning to look at his brother. "Are you--wait, wait..." Tommy cracked open an eye to glower at his brother as he was inspected. "Are you... _naked_?" he hissed out.

“Wow, Billy. How observant of you,” Tommy remarked dryly, reaching down with a hand to yank up the blanket a bit more. “No, I’m not talking about it. Happy birthday, by the way,” he grumbled, punching his pillow to make it more comfortable and then settling back down. “And congrats on not teleporting into space and dying.”

Billy scoffed. “Thanks.” He shook his head, walking over to peer at the record that was playing. “He has a _record player_? How--”

“Don’t ask,” Tommy responded gruffly. “Somehow he finds the time. I think...he probably deserves more time off than we give him, now that we mention it,” he mumbled.

“I doubt he’d take it,” Billy responded, picking up the cover to the record and giving a hum of approval. “At least he’s got good taste,” he mumbled, setting it back down. “Where is he, by the way?”

“I don’t know, trying to get food I guess,” Tommy grumbled. “Trying being the keyword. He’s kind of terrible at it. I think his ship does most of the cooking for him.”

“Oh, well that’s-- _Jesus!_ ” Billy jumped back from the wall as PLEX appeared in the tube, looking every bit as disconcerting as he usually did. Tommy gave a low chuckle; he still wasn’t _fond_ of seeing PLEX, but he was a little more accustomed to him after his time on the ship.

“Noh-Varr is aware of your presence on the ship. He will be in to say hello shortly.”

“Um...Thank you?” Billy’s arms were still held up defensively, in surprise from the sudden appearance of the strange green blob, and he lowered them slowly as the thing sucked itself away and up the tube. Billy stared after it with a look of clear distaste, turning his scowl onto his brother. “Um...what...is that thing?”

Tommy scoffed, twisting his head to smirk at his brother. “No idea, honestly. Noh says it’s some kind of representation of the Supreme Intelligence or something-”

“Oh, oh, for the ship, okay. That makes sense. I just hadn’t seen one before.” He seemed to relax, and Tommy pushed himself up on his elbows. 

“Wait, you _knew_ about those things?” He asked almost petulantly. “How the hell?”

“Because I paid attention in my lessons, brother dearest,” Billy said with a sickly sweet smile, moving to perch on the side of the bed. Tommy rolled gingerly onto his side, tugging the blanket up again.

“Oh, shove it. If they were smart they would have recorded the lessons and played them sped up a hundred times.”

“I think the point was that they were paced to match...well, everyone else. Considering...you know, you’re not exactly going to be able to force everyone around you to speed up.”

Tommy gave a suffering groan in response. “Ugh, _please_ don’t start lecturing me, Billy, it’s our _birthday_.”

“What-- _Tommy_ ,” Billy started, turning to face his twin fully. “You can’t honestly tell me you’re never going to go back?”

“Well, why the hell _would_ I?” Tommy snipped in response. “There’s no reason for me to.”

“Of course not. Except, wait -- you’re supposed to be _King,_ ” Billy shot back sternly. “Do you really think you’re going to be able to run away from this for the rest of your life? What, holed up in a spaceship and coasting on your own pleasure while trying to avoid anyone that might try to drag you back to the real world?”

“Billy, you _helped_ me leave-” his brother cut him off quickly, leaning forward earnestly.

“Yeah, so you could take a _break_. It was pretty obvious everything was way too stressful for you to get to heal, I mean, especially after what happened with Pietro-” he ignored the scoff that Tommy gave in response. “-I could tell you just needed to get away for a while. But you have to face it _eventually_ , Tommy, you can’t just keep running away!”

“Pfft, maybe I’ll go back when Erik finally croaks,” Tommy grumbled, rolling over with a wince to reach for his clothes. He rolled his eyes at his brother’s answering gasp.

“Tommy, I--Wow. I mean, yeah, grandpa can be… _difficult_ , but--”

“He threw me into a _wall,_ Billy. Not only that, but he told me that the only reason I had the thought to disagree with him was because _they_ put those ideas in my head. So pardon me if I’m not on the best of terms with him.” He yanked on his pants, grimacing when his sore muscles ached from the movement.

“Wait, he said that they--they as in…?”

“They as in the assholes that kidnapped and tortured me Billy, yes,” Tommy said with a frustrated sigh. “Thank you for reminding me.” He knew he was lashing out at his brother needlessly, but he didn’t like the direction the conversation was taking. He started to move towards the door, but stopped short when Noh-Varr walked inside with a plate in hand.

Noh-Varr seemed completely unphased by the tension in the room, and he held up a plate with two waffles innocently. The sight was enough to make Tommy stop short, and he blinked at him incredulously. “Where did you…?”

“There’s a black market for _everything_ , Tommy,” Noh chided him gently, handing him the plate. “Including human food. Happy birthday. Again.” The Kree surprised him further by leaning in to press a quick kiss to his cheek, leaving Tommy standing there with his cheeks burning while he held the waffles, and Billy gawking from the bed.

“What the hell are you doing?” Tommy grumbled, turning his head away and glowering down at the waffles. His stomach grumbled as the smell of them wafted up towards him; damn, he didn’t realize how hungry he was.

"I am not afraid to show my affections," Noh answered smoothly, giving a smile and a polite half-bow to Billy. "I apologize for my lack of proper dress. I didn't expect your arrival," he said, sounding as formal as ever. He was referring, of course, to the fact that he was in nothing but his underwear, a habit of his that had developed with surprising speed once they had left the palace.

Billy was staring with wide eyes, and after a point it wasn’t clear if he was more surprised by Noh-Varr kissing Tommy in front of him like that or the sight of the Kree without a shirt on. “I, uh...it’s-it’s fine, no need to apologize. This is your, uh, ship,” he stammered out, shaking his head and forcing himself to look away, a hand raising to shield his face from Noh’s view. “I can leave if that’s, uh...necessary,” he managed to choke out, and Noh-Varr held up a hand placatingly.

“That won’t be necessary. I have a closet I can dress in.” He sauntered off casually, both twins left to stare after him in all his absurdity.

“I don’t...Is this normal?” Billy asked, peering over at Tommy.

“Um...Kind of, actually,” Tommy muttered, setting the plate on the bedside table and leaning against the wall to eat so he didn’t have to bother his sore muscles any longer.

“That’s, uh...ahem, anyway,” Billy shoved the thoughts from his mind, waving a hand as if to actually ward off the recent memory of Noh-Varr in all his glory (or _almost_ all of it). “I take it...it’s been nice, then?” he asked, trying to change the subject to something a little less tense.

“Yeah, it’s nice. Definitely less stressful than the royal life,” he said with a sigh.

Billy gave a small scoff. “I’m starting to think _anything_ is less stressful than royal life,” he mumbled. “Although…”

“Don’t,” Tommy warned, glancing up from his waffles to give his brother with a look. Billy held up his hands defensively.

“I’m just _saying_ , none of this would be possible if you _weren’t_ born into royalty.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Tommy snipped back. “I think there’s definitely been some less-than-savory results of me being born into royalty, though, so--” he cut off, breathing in deeply and sighing. He stabbed at the waffles, refusing to look up at his brother. “Forget I said that. I don’t mean to keep bringing it up.”

“I’m not going to blame you for bringing it up, Tommy,” Billy said quietly. “I...I’m not surprised you have at all. That was...horrible, I can only imagine. If you want to talk about it, then go ahead,” he said, fiddling with his hands anxiously and looking down at them. “Sorry I said that, I wasn’t thinking,” he added.

“It’s fine, BIlly, don’t apologize,” Tommy said with a sigh. “It’s...been hard for everyone,” he muttered. “I know that.”

Billy was quiet for a moment, and then huffed. “I just wish I wasn’t so in the _dark_ ,” he complained. “Not about -- what happened while you were gone, that’s your business,” he added quickly. “But everything else! Everyone acts like I’m so fragile and they don’t tell me anything, I--I feel like I’m the only one who doesn’t know about Pietro, Teddy is always gone--”

“Ohhh, right, Teddy,” Tommy mumbled. Billy’s head shot up and he gave his brother a look. 

“What do you know about that?” Billy demanded, and Tommy looked up guiltily from his waffles. “Tommy, I have a _right_ to know. We’re supposed to get married and I don’t even know what he’s doing 90% of the time!”

Tommy surveyed his brother quietly for a moment -- he knew he was deflecting the problem to what was happening with Teddy so he wouldn’t have to talk about what happened with Pietro, but he couldn’t help himself. His reaction had been automatic. Not to mention, Billy _did_ have a right to know. Like he said, Teddy was his fiance.

“Well… _apparently_ he and Erik are planning some kind of attack against whatever people took me,” he said gravely.

“They _what_?” Billy asked, and Tommy saw a flash of the anger that his mother showed on very rare occasions. It was a little intimidating.

“I mean, I didn’t even know about it until Noh-Varr told me-” he reasoned, but that seemed to only make things worse.

“They told _Noh-Varr _, and not me. When I was sitting there agonizing about...oh, _oh_ no. This isn’t going to fly,” he snapped. He stood up, paced quickly once or twice, and then shot Tommy a look. “...Thanks.”__

There was a bright flash of blue light, and Billy was gone from the room. Tommy eyed where he’d been standing for a moment, and then calmly went back to eating his waffles as Noh-Varr emerged from the bathroom, looking as perfectly groomed as ever.

“...Tommy,” he said, his tone disapproving.

“What?” he asked innocently, taking his last bite of the waffles.

“You weren’t supposed to tell anyone, and you _knew_ that would upset him,” Noh-Varr scolded him gently, approaching him and reaching for the plate so he could put it away. Tommy handed it over, his expression careful and controlled.

“Yeah, well, Erik’s been digging his own grave for a while now. It’s not my fault he likes to keep secrets.”

**\---**

Billy reappeared in a flash of blue light, right in the middle of a war meeting. There were mixed reactions of surprise, but he had a nearly murderous gaze locked on his grandfather. “Everyone, _out,_ he snapped, tearing his gaze away to wave his hand at everyone else attending the meeting. “I need to talk to my grandfather and my _fiance_.” Everyone blinked at him, and then looked to Erik, who was eyeing Billy carefully, his own eyes showing thinly veiled anger at the disruption. He rested his chin on the tops of his hands, and gave a small, dismissive wave to everyone else in the room. They all stood and filed out, Billy keeping a stony gaze fixed on his grandfather. The moment the door shut, Erik began speaking. “Would you care to explain--”

“No, _don’t,_ ” Billy said warningly. “I need to talk, so I’m _going_ to.” Erik braced his hands on the table and stood, chair scraping out behind him angrily. “I’m growing tired of your tone, _boy._ You will--”

Billy gave an annoyed flick of his wrist, and just like that, Erik stopped speaking. The king stopped, looking shocked, and pressed a hand to his throat, making obvious attempts to speak that resulted in nothing but silence. Teddy stood, looking between the king and his fiance in shock.

Billy began pacing, clasping his hands together and taking a deep breath. He hadn’t intentionally taken Erik’s voice, he had just _wanted_ him to stop talking...which was a very dangerous aspect of his powers.

“Billy…” Teddy started slowly, but when Billy held up a finger he immediately fell silent, not wanting to befall the same fate as Erik.

Billy stopped in his pacing, finger still held up to keep the other two at bay. He closed his eyes and took a deep, slightly shaky breath, regaining his composure.

“All right,” he started slowly. He opened his eyes, and fixed them on his grandfather, who was sitting once more, his clenched fists resting on the table as he glared at his grandson. “Here’s the thing. You throw around your power all the time, and yeah, I get it, you’re the _king_ , but I’m your _grandson_ and you’ve got to deal with the fact that you don’t get to push me around like you do everyone else. I’m going to give you your voice back, but I _will_ take it again,” he warned.

The threat sounded false to his own ears, a show of bravado that he didn’t want to make. He sighed and turned away, waving his hand. Erik let out a deep breath, and cleared his throat, taking a moment to curb his anger as well. “...What’s bothering you?” he asked, his tone forcefully controlled.

“I’m sick of this,” Billy said, turning to face him. He had thought he’d gotten his anger under control, but the moment he began speaking it built up again and came rushing to the surface. “I’m sick of everyone hiding everything from me. We’ve _all_ been suffering and everyone acts like I’m the only one who can’t handle it! I’m _sick_ of all the secrets! I may not be the crown prince, but I’m still a damn prince, and this is my _home._ Recently it just feels like it’s falling apart, and I’m going _insane_ not knowing why or how to help!”

Erik let him finish, and laced his fingers together again. “William, we aren’t--”

“I know you two are planning an attack against the Rebels,” Billy said bluntly, paying no mind to the surprised looks on their faces. “And this is exactly the kind of thing I’m talking about! You’re planning a _war_ -”

Erik scoffed. “It will hardly be a _war_ ,” he said dismissively, sitting back in his seat. “They’ll be crushed in a matter of moments.”

“That’s--that’s not the point!” Billy cried incredulously. “Do you really not understand?”

“I understand that you’re frustrated, and I… _do_ understand why. Is there anything else you would like to know?” he asked, suddenly seeming oddly at ease with the situation. Billy eyed him warily, working his jaw for a moment.

“I want to know what happened with Pietro and Tommy,” he demanded, voice firm.

Erik fell silent, pressing his lips together and nodding slowly. “I think...that might be better coming from Pietro-”

“ _No,_ he won’t talk to me. He’s not even around half the time. I want to know what happened,” he said decisively, stomping his foot a little. 

Erik sighed, and was quiet for a moment longer before turning to Teddy. “Dorrek, as this is...sensitive, would you mind exiting the room? With Billy’s permission, of course.”

Teddy paused, and then looked to Billy confirmation. Receiving a small nod, he stood. “Of course,” he said, clearly somewhat glad to be free of the tense situation. “...Pietro...is your real father. But the circumstances aren’t what they seem.”

Billy stopped short, blinking at him incredulously. “I…Wow.” He searched for the correct words, and then took a deep breath, straightened, and looked back to his grandfather. “I had my suspicions,” he said carefully. “Tommy...takes after him a lot, after all,” he added quietly.

Erik nodded quietly. “Tommy...is not as composed as you are. And in light of recent events, he...was understandably irrational when he found out.”

Billy moved to sit down across from Erik, folding his hands together in his lap and staring at the table with furrowed brows. “...You said the circumstances aren’t what they seem? What did you mean?”

Erik was quiet for a long moment, clenching and unclenching a hand. “It’s...difficult,” he started. “When your father--when _Simon_ passed, poor Wanda...she was so distraught. That was when her instabilities became...more pronounced,” he said, speaking carefully. “She went into seclusion, and for a while we feared for the safety of those around her. You, more than anyone, know the consequences of losing control of your powers,” Erik said pointedly, and Billy felt a wave of guilt from his previous outburst. 

“...Yeah,” he responded quietly, growing uneasy at the thought of what kind of damage his mother could wreak. “...What happened?”

“Pietro went to console her. In her grief, she wanted nothing more than for Simon to return to her. They had been trying for a child before his death.”

Billy’s stomach twisted. “Did he...is that how he tried to console her?” he asked, feeling suddenly nauseous.

“No, Billy.” He met his grandson’s eyes when Billy looked up to him, and continued. “I...don’t know all the details, of course, but Pietro didn’t take advantage of your mother. He loves her, dearly, but to his credit he would never do such a thing. If anything...Wanda took advantage of Pietro.”

Billy looked shocked. “What? How could that--How?” he asked, incredulous.

“I believe...that in her distress, your mother wanted Simon, and she frequently would speak to someone around her as if they were her deceased husband. So perhaps she… _made_ Pietro into what she wanted him to be, for a while. I’m not entirely sure of how it worked, but it was with her powers. He has little to no recollection of what actually took place. Charles, while he was alive, helped your mother regain her mind enough to function again. She believes, of her own accord, that Simon fathered you and Tommy before he passed. She remembers nothing of what happened as well.”

Billy sat there for a moment, floored by all of the new information. “Why...why didn’t you tell Tommy this?” he asked. “I’m sure he’d...well, I doubt he would be happy to hear it, but surely he would understand with time, wouldn’t he?” he asked, feeling a twinge of guilt at doubting his brother.

“I’m afraid...he isn’t quite ready to listen to reason,” Erik said. “Did Thomas ever tell you why his captors said he wasn’t fit to rule?”

“Yeah, yeah, the uh… The line…” Billy trailed off, and gasped. “ _That’s_ why they took him? But that’s not even his fault! How did they find out?” he asked incredulously.

“I’m not sure. But we need to be careful, William. Give your trust sparingly.” He sighed, and stood. “...If you don’t mind, I _do_ have business to attend to. Did you need anything else?”

“I...no, no. I’m sorry. And...thank you,” he said genuinely, turning to look at his grandfather once more. “I...I’m thankful for the answers.”

“Of course.” Erik followed him from the room, glancing at Teddy, who was patiently waiting outside. He gestured for him to follow him back into the room, and sat back down carefully.

“Is everything alright?” Teddy asked, sitting down beside him.

“It’s taken care of,” Erik said, pursing his lips and tapping his fingers along the table. “...But clearly, our Kree friend decided to break his promise of silence to me.” He was quiet for a moment longer, and then turned to Teddy. “I would like to put out a search for Tommy and Noh-Varr. Send the message to your patrols, if you don’t mind. It’s time he stops running from his problems...and time he stops creating more.”

**\---**

“...Wow, alright. That’s heavy.” Remy was in a wooded part of the palace grounds, sitting on the ground beside a very distraught Pietro. The prince was sitting with his head in his hands, his body occasionally vibrating in his struggle to contain his emotions. “I’ve...never told _anyone_ what happened between Wanda and I,” he said, dropping his hands into his lap and twisting them anxiously. “And then I tell _you_ , of all people.”

The insult wasn’t serious enough to land, and Remy gave a low chuckle. “Well, I’m not exactly the _best_ person to talk to, I understand, but at least I’m not directly involved with your situation the way that everyone else around you is. Can’t imagine keeping in a secret like that for over 17 years.” He sighed, adjusting to lean back against the tree they were sitting under. “I take it you’re not the type ta talk about how you’re feeling, but sometimes you’ve just gotta power through it,” he commented lightly.

Pietro was quiet for a moment, still wringing his hands. “...I detest myself,” he finally spat after a moment. “If there were anything in my life that I could take back, it would be that night.”

“...Doesn’t sound like it was entirely your fault -- doesn’t sound like it was your fault at _all_ actually. Your sister was in grief. You tried to help her. She...she didn’t know what she was doing,” he reasoned weakly. 

“Yes, but I knew she was _unsafe_. I foolishly thought she would be able to put aside what was affecting her while I saw her. Because of that, Tommy was taken.”

“Mm, no, that is the _last_ thing you need to blame yourself for,” Remy said, sitting forward and looking at Pietro severely. “Even if...the situation weren’t as it is, they would have taken him. They would have found _some_ reason to rally against you. It’s natural. Don’t hold yourself accountable for the actions of another, chere.”

“Stop calling me that,” Pietro grouched, pushing himself to his feet.

“You just skipped over all the important things I said,” Remy complained.

“I don’t care to hear them right now,” Pietro huffed.

“You’re deflecting, chere.”

“There you go again.” Remy held out his hands and shrugged. “It’s a term of endearment, Pietro.”

“I think the title you’re looking for is _my Prince._ ” Pietro quipped, refusing to look back at Remy, who sighed.

“As you say, _my Prince,_ ” he said dramatically. “You’re a royal _ass_ , is what you are.” He pushed himself up, smirking at the glare that was shot in his direction.

“You’re brave,” Pietro responded dryly. “Not all that intelligent, but I’ll give you brave.” He glanced over at the thief as he walked up to stand beside him.

“Oh, you like me, at least a little. Otherwise you wouldn’t have told me your secret, and I would probably be in jail by now.” He chuckled, glancing over at the scowling prince, and lowered his voice a little. “You’re alright, you know,” he said, suddenly serious. “You haven’t done anything wrong. From the way you punish yourself, I expected so much worse. I’m glad you told me, chere. Sounds like you needed to tell _someone_. I’m always around if you need me.”

“I still haven’t figured out why a common _thief_ is hanging around the palace grounds all the time,” Pietro quipped.

“Free room and board, mostly,” Remy said with a little shrug. “Doesn’t help that there’s a silver-haired prince running around that’s nice to look at,” he added with a cheeky grin.

He was answered with a scoff and a rush of air as Pietro disappeared from view, a faint trail of dust telling him the prince had returned to the castle. He began the long walk back, giving a wave when he saw Lorna flying over the grounds. She landed with practiced ease, falling into step beside him.

“You weren’t just off with Pietro again, were you?” she asked nonchalantly.

“Ehh, I’m warming up to him. Shoot me,” he said with a shrug. “He still grates on my nerves _most_ of the time, but I take pleasure in returning the favor at every available opportunity.” He gave a chuckle, and Lorna rolled her eyes. They walked in silence for a moment, and then Remy finally spoke up. “I know your secret now, by the way.”

Lorna stopped for half a beat before resuming walking. “What secret?” she asked, tone a little sharp.

“Well...Pietro and Wanda’s, I suppose. He told me.”

“He...He _told_ you?” she asked, staring at him incredulously. “But--”

“He’s never told anyone, apparently. Yeah, I know,” he said, giving a shrug. “I guess he’s warming up to me, too.”

Lorna scoffed, and was quiet for a long moment. “...Apparently he is. I don’t know how the hell you managed it,” she added, shrugging and shaking her head.

“It’s all a part of my charm, cherie,” he said, giving her a cheeky grin. “I’ll be a part of this family before you know it.”

“I _knew_ you were scheming something,” she teased, nudging him with an elbow. “Just be careful,” she added. “In case you hadn’t noticed, this family’s a mess. There’s a reason I left.”

“Aw, you don’t have to worry about me, dear, I’m aware.”

She sighed and gave a shrug. “At least we’ll have someone to burn with us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remy's good at talking to people, idk. Haha, that's kind of been his role in this.
> 
> Anyway, this chapter was really to kind of get you caught up on what everyone's been doing and set things in motion for the next big plot point. We've got some serious stuff coming up in the next chapter, or maybe even a few (I haven't decided how I'm going to space everything out yet). I've worked out a lot of kinks I've been struggling with since I posted the last chapter and I think everything is kind of falling into place, so that's cool.
> 
> OH YEAH, also, the answer to what _really_ happened between Wanda and Pietro...kind of. Still mostly shrouded in mystery, but whatever.
> 
> Anyway, I'm sorry if the ending was kind of weak but I didn't want to leave Lorna out of the picture when everyone else was getting an update. Wanda stays in the shadows for most of this fic because of reasons but I do have a soft spot for Lorna. And I _could_ have ended it with the cheesy line about Pietro scoffing and disappearing, but decided not to do that lol.
> 
> LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK AND THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE AS ALWAYSSS.


End file.
